A/N: This LONG chapter is written in the third-person, but I jump around a lot in terms of POV and timing. Sorry! That's just the way it flowed in my brain, and I like the way it turned out. I hope you do too! This chapter also provides some more background information that I neglected to mention in previous chapters. P.S.: we're about to get to the good stuff now.

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"You know, I'm not as dumb as I look, Liv," Amanda angrily declares as she steps a foot into her lieutenant's office, reluctant and withdrawn, as she plops down onto the colorless, washed-out couch.

Amanda was still engaged in her depression-induced slumber by the time Olivia had texted her last night, but she failed to mention this to her so obviously concerned boss. That is, if you could even count what she was doing last night as sleep. She had jolted awake countless times over the course of the evening, overcome with terror each time she woke up trembling from nightmares, and sweat leaking from every pore of her body. Olivia, however, has been so frazzled by emotion that she has totally convinced herself that the blonde had blatantly ignored her text, just as she did only a day prior. Olivia can't even blame Amanda for the amounts of anger she currently feels radiating off of the tiny woman's body; after all, it was she who ignored a text first. In addition, she thinks, it was she who had frantically rushed out of Amanda's apartment the moment she had sobered up.

The sick parts of Amanda's brain that she continually needs to work at squashing down have made a reappearance; her "addict" brain, as she calls it, recently taking over the majority of her frontal lobe. It's true that she hasn't seen Olivia's text until the next morning—when she was already late to work—but—she also finds a twisted satisfaction in torturing the brunette, taking confidence in the fact that it appears as if she has even a fraction of the power that Olivia so classically holds over her right now.

In the span of less than a day, Olivia's historical walls been catapulted into, and consequently blown down, by a powerful stick of metaphorical dynamite; she is now determined to do everything in her power to work on her relationship with the Amanda.

Sad, dark eyes bore into blue—intending to somehow prove to Amanda that she can still trust her. "I never implied that you were, Amanda," she replies despondently, as she slams the door of her office shut, and peeks an eye over toward Fin, who is staring right back at her, seemingly attempting to burn a hole right through her head. "Have a nice lunch, Fin, she mutters with the roll of her eyes, as she thoughtfully fastens the door's lock and draws the blinds shut.

As soon as Olivia turns around to see the blonde standing across from her, she is nearly knocked over by a wave of panic, totally unprepared for this emotional conversation she is about to have with her coworker. As she walks toward her desk, she feels her limbs quake with fear, impatiently wondering how this is about to play out. She inhales a deep breath, feeling her belly rising in response, and is mindful to suck in as much oxygen as physically possible.

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Amanda Rollins is in love with Olivia Benson.

This is not new information.

Even before she had even met her, Amanda was completely taken aback by Olivia. There was just something about her that struck a chord deep inside of her soul; that something had significantly exceeded her expectations once she finally met her idol. Before moving, Amanda had put in a lot of research in studying both Olivia's cases—and the woman herself, before she put a transfer request in. When they met, it was like a spark had been ignited inside of her soul; she knew she would never be the same. Olivia was different; so different from anyone else she had ever laid eyes on—so smart, so intuitive, so passionate—and it didn't hurt that she was drop-dead gorgeous. These feelings didn't scare her at first; she was used to having romantic feelings for women since she was a teenager. Amanda never felt it necessary to identify as lesbian or bisexual, however; she just liked who she liked—always had—always will. Throughout her life, she has been with both women and men, and although she likes having sex with men occasionally, she feels herself more apt to form romantic feelings for women. Unfortunately, fear did not stay dormant for long.

As soon as they started working together, Olivia seemed to do everything in her power to create as much space between her and Amanda as possible. At their first meeting, when Amanda had confidently and eagerly strutted up to the older woman to introduce herself, with a dopey smile plastered across her face, Olivia had completely brushed her off. She even mistakenly noted that she had transferred from Dallas. Amanda felt hurt and unworthy at this response; to this day, she vividly recalls her pathetic attempt in trying to tamp down her disappointment at Olivia's dismissal. She painfully remembers that frown creeping across her face, without her permission. Realistically, Amanda knew she had to keep in mind that Olivia was grieving the loss of her long-time partner—who had abandoned her so suddenly—and that she shouldn't take the brunette's cold behavior so personally. Sometimes, the healthy rationalization worked, but most of the time, after being treated so coldly for awhile, she felt that Olivia's emotions unfairly got taken out on her—especially as she was climbing the ladder up to become a sergeant, and then as lieutenant.

Nevertheless—even throughout the times that Olivia treated her poorly, or she was on her boss' bad side—her admiration for the beautiful brunette never ceased. Amanda had always clung on to the times when she was lucky enough to see her boss in a softer, more human light; usually occurring while one of them was hurting and needed each other's comfort. In fact, one of the first times Amanda knew she was falling in love with Olivia, was as she admitted to her that she had left Atlanta for one reason in particular: Patton, her ex-boss, had raped her. To this day, Amanda can still reminisce so flawlessly, she can even smell a whiff of Olivia's signature vanilla perfume. Right after her confession, Olivia's facial muscles didn't move in the slightest. She didn't pity her, like she had irrationally feared; in fact, just the opposite. Olivia had displayed unwavering kindness, empathy, compassion, and perhaps most importantly: confidence that she could heal. This interaction was so pleasant, that for a while, Amanda actually felt somewhat motivated enough to believe she could heal from her trauma herself. Although it took a few more years and plenty of more lessons after that previous encounter, Amanda finally feels like she is beginning to heal from everything that happened with Patton. Sometimes—if it's a good day—she'll even feel at peace in her own skin.

Now a bit older and definitely wiser, Amanda has felt her relationship with Olivia slowly flourishing into something that could resemble a friendship; this was made especially apparent to her last week when she bombarded Cassidy inside of Olivia's own apartment, when she stated, "you know I would never go against Liv." It's true. Though she can be intense at times, Amanda tries to be careful not to let her own feelings get in the way of their blooming friendship—she regularly cringes at the thought of having to work so hard to build her boss' trust back up again. This apprehension, in turn, usually prevents her from doing something impulsive, which is a plus.

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Although she doesn't remember much of the past weekend, Amanda knows that she was initially in pain after hearing about her father, and for once in her goddamn life, she was going to do the healthy thing and talk with someone about it right away, instead of ruminating in the sadness at the casino or some sketchy bar; or, perhaps, drowning her sorrows in a bottle of booze. That was the plan, however, until Olivia ignored her cry for help; inevitably initiating a string of old behaviors that she has desperately been trying to grow away from. She also knows that she is the reason Olivia showed up to that shitty bar in the first place; she vaguely recalls exploding on the older woman for ignoring her text message; after that, it's all a bit of a blur. She does, however, remember the familiar feeling of guilt and shame that she used to feel so routinely, as she woke up at home without the knowledge of how she got there, with a gnarly hangover, and a stranger in her bed on a Sunday morning. She had immediately felt immersed in panic until she realized who it was slumbering so peacefully beside her; after she realized it was Olivia, she was in utter disbelief. Careful not to break the older woman's trust any more than she already had, she knew she had do something, so she settled on the quick fix of making her breakfast; which essentially just proved to be the placement of a Band-Aid over a gaping wound. Yet as she stood there, abandoned and alone, after Olivia had fled her apartment in a hysterical run, Amanda felt nothing but anger. She knew the only way to protect herself was to shut down and use her beloved defense mechanisms yet again.

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The first half of their day was nothing short of incredibly awkward; Amanda made sure to ignore her boss as much as humanly possible; occasionally taking the time to shoot a dirty glare at Olivia, who was always looking right back at her through her office window. Each time she caught her staring, Amanda internally took a sick pleasure in the fact that the woman she loves couldn't keep her eyes off of her, regardless of the reason.

Luckily, a new case arrived shortly after the start of her shift, so Amanda spent a majority of her morning out in the field with Carisi talking with a victim and her mother, channeling all of her anger and sick thoughts into the criminal she was determined to take down.

Amanda's luck ended far too soon, however, when they arrived back to the precinct around noon, just in time for lunch. Only a few moments after she had shrugged off her coat and slumped down dejectedly into her chair—her limbs keenly resembling jelly—and her mind so far from her present environment—she was interrupted.

"Amanda. Join me in my office?" Olivia probed, as she gestured a hand toward her office.

Without missing a beat, Fin had glanced over toward Amanda and nodded his head in more characteristic omniscience; symbolizing that he knew she wasn't in trouble, and she was being called to work out whatever the hell happened between the two of them on Saturday evening. "Good luck," he stated assuredly, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "Fuck off," Amanda replied back with a deceiving smirk—as if she was kidding—but secretly feeling sick of everything and everyone at this point.

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Currently, Amanda is seated uncomfortably at the end of the couch in Olivia's office, staring vehemently at the older woman who is perched just as uncomfortably at her desk across the small room.

"'Manda," Olivia begins, "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." She shakes her head, tousling her brown locks in a beautiful manner, and holds up a hand to wipe a tear falling from her eye.

Still seething, Amanda responds with the roll of her eyes and a short puff. She is a little taken aback by her own ability not be so transparent in front of the older woman; her feelings of embarrassment and anger clearly winning over wanting to maintain her friendship with the older woman at this point. "It's whatever, Liv."

Olivia is both heartbroken and surprised at Amanda's defensiveness. Her mouth drops open in response; her legs are flying up and down in anxiety, knocking against the bottom of her desk in an audible sound. It takes every ounce of willpower that she has not to run over to the blonde sitting on her couch and wrap her in a tight embrace. Inside of her head is a war zone; Olivia is mentally beating herself up for spending so many years of her life concerned with things that don't even seem to matter anymore. Although she had a rough start with Amanda, she has grown to adore the younger woman just as much as she knows Amanda adores her. She is also fully aware that Amanda has been through so much in her short life; she is frequently overcome with respect and admiration for the detective's strength. Olivia is now confident in knowing she doesn't want to go another day without being a part of Amanda's life. She feels as though the combination of seeing Cassidy last week, coming to terms with her past relationships, and spending the night with the drunken blonde has all blended together exquisitely to lead her to this point; she's no confused, or afraid to admit to herself, at least, that she has romantic feelings for Amanda. Romantic feelings, that were, in fact, always there; now, they are at the forefront of her brain, they are strong, and they are not going away anytime soon.

"It's not 'whatever,'" Olivia verbally replies in an exasperated sigh. "I need you to know that you can trust me, sweetheart…"

"Don't call me sweetheart," Amanda bites back, desperately trying to keep the own tears forming in her sweet, cerulean eyes at bay, as she hears herself speak to the woman she loves so harshly.

As she briefly ruminates on her sharp response, Amanda comes to realize that although Olivia did ignore her initially, she really has no right to be angry. After all, she did text her boss on a Saturday, and after she had manipulated her to join them at the bar, and yelled at her. And still, even after this awful treatment, Olivia made sure she was safe by driving her home, or at least she assumes; she stayed the night with her, and, she noticed, that Frannie had been fed and taken out.

Amanda is astounded that these rational thoughts had been able to protrude past the sick thoughts swimming around in her mind; she is sure they are nothing short of divine intervention. She had been completely coated in her own pain, after hearing of her father's suicide, and being abandoned by the woman she loves so much, that she couldn't see it from Olivia's perspective; she couldn't see "her part" in the story, as her sponsor would say. Usually, Amanda uses her sponsor to point these things out to her—but—she's been ignoring the wise woman for a couple weeks now. She mentally thanks God for having her back, and finds the will to speak.

"My Daddy committed suicide."

Olivia's eyes bug open so wide, Amanda is afraid they might burst out of her head. "What? Oh my god, Amanda!" she gasps, "I'm so sorry, when? Oh my god, I can't believe that's what you needed to talk to me about. I left! Oh my god. 'Manda. Are you okay?"

Amanda interjects, "Wow, are you done?" with a hint of humor in her tone.

Although Olivia faces the worst parts of humanity and some of the most tragic stories in existence on a daily basis, she can't believe the fact that this is what Amanda had initially reached out to her about, and she ignored her. Even worse, when Amanda tried to bring it up again, she left! She feels so overcome with guilt, she has to tamp down the urge to dry heave and "shush" the noises emitting from her stomach by coughing loudly.

"It's okay, Liv. Really. I found out last week, just after everything happened with Cassidy. He killed himself last Monday. I didn't want to bother you, and honestly, it's not that big of a deal."

"Can you explain that a little more?" Olivia questions in concern, "you didn't even ask for a day off."

"I didn't need to, and I still don't," Amanda replies. "I didn't go to the funeral."

Olivia is so confused by this statement; she actually and instinctually lifts a hand over her head and begins scratching. Her normally chocolate brown eyes have turned the color of coal, and the skin on her face is as white as snow.

"I don't know," Amanda continues. "Maybe I haven't processed it yet, but the thing is, though, Liv…I'm not really that sad. I think I'm kind of happy."

"What? Why, honey?" she urgently demands. "Shit," she immediately corrects, "why, Amanda? Why are you happy?"

"He wasn't a good man, Liv," Amanda states, cobalt eyes now jutting deep into pools of coal.

"Okay…" she trails off, cautious not to say anything inappropriate at her co-worker's strange admittance. "Well, Amanda, I'm here, okay? Anytime you need to talk, or vent, or cry, I'm here," she states assertively. "And I promise, this time, I won't leave." She is briefly reminded of yesterday's events once more, and her jaw locks in tension in retort.

Amanda can sense Olivia's obvious discomfort, and precipitously feels the need to calm her. She gracefully slides off the couch and pads over to the frozen woman sitting completely upright in her chair, all the while maintaining a very calm composure. Olivia is flabbergasted at Amanda's cool demeanor, but before she can react, she feels her heart leaping in her chest, as Amanda leans her hip against the desk. There is suddenly virtually no space between the two of them, and Olivia is dazed in a mixture of emotions—ranging from worried sick—to turned on.

Amanda's baby-soft hands grace the older woman's shaking upper limbs, massaging them to stillness.

"He made my childhood pretty rough, okay? I know it's bad not to be upset by my own daddy's death, especially since he fuckin' hung himself, but I'm just not. He made me want to hang myself every day when I was a kid. I had no safe place."

For the first time in her life, Olivia replies tersely, and without a second thought.

"Let me be your safe place, Amanda."