Just One
This chapter takes place before Season 16 Episode 13.
"Carisi – You're here?!" Amanda is a little startled as she opens her door on a bright sunny morning. Sun piercing into your eyes after a red-eye flight is brutal. And it's February – the sun has no right to be this bright today.
"Yes, I am," he exclaims as bright as the sun himself. "May I come in? I've got breakfast."
She smiles tiredly, "I was just unpacking. . ."
"Oh, that's right. Nick said you'd be coming home on the red-eye. Somehow I forgot that part and only remembered that you'd be home today." He grins sheepishly. "Sorry about that. Can I still come in?"
"Sure," she said. She didn't want to make the effort to fight off this ball of enthusiasm right now.
He comes in and looks around, checking out her place. This is the first time he's been here.
She thinks a little, "Wait? How did you know where I live?"
"I'm a detective you know," he winks at her. "I know how to figure things out."
He walks into her kitchen like he owns the place and pulls some white bottles out of a Whole Foods bag.
"Yum. Looks good." Amanda says, her voice dripping with sarcasm, picking up one of the bottles, studying the label. "What the hell is it?"
"It's filmjolk," Carisi says excitedly. "It's this fermented milk product. Kinda like thin yogurt, but it tastes more like sour cream. Some Vikings came up with it or something."
"Sounds delicious."
"It is," he says pretending that her sarcasm is lost on him. "Seriously, try it. It's made with milk from local dairy farms."
"We live New York City."
"You gotta think bigger than that. Think New York State." He shrugs. "It's still local."
"If you say so." She is still eyeing the bottle suspiciously, turning it over in her hands.
"Look if it's too much for you we can always dilute it with some cereal, some granola or something."
"Do I look like I have any granola?"
He studies her kitchen. "Shit, Rollins, you don't have any food here."
"Nope."
That's extremely odd. He wonders how she feeds herself. It can't be healthy. "Uh, okay."
Groaning she sits down in one of her kitchen chairs, slumping from fatigue, and sets her bottle of filmjolk down on the table. Carisi and his weird food. She waves him over. "Here, let's give this stuff a whirl."
He joins her. Enthusiastically he twists the top off his bottle and gulps the stuff down. It's so thick she doesn't know how he drinks it as if it's as thin as milk. His bottle is drained in a matter of seconds.
"Not bad, Carisi," she says and then she gives her bottle a swig herself. "Not bad at all."
He sits back and notices just how tired she looks. It may not be the best time … but he figures her fatigue might make him able to take her off-guard. Maybe she'll be willing to be more open, more honest than she normally would be. So he leans forward and starts the conversation he came here to have.
"Hey Rollins, that last case you know . . . the last one you were on – when I was taking time off? Before you left for your sabbatical . . ."
Now she shifts her body into itself, shoulders hunched forward, suddenly guarded. Damn, he was hoping to avoid that. He feels that he needs to continue anyway though. "Well the word around the precinct is that it was a little rough on you."
"What did they say?" she says defensively.
"Oh, no. It's nothing like that," he says backpedaling, not meaning to get anyone in trouble. No one had said much of anything to him . . . It was just that tape – what he had heard on the tape. He wanted to make sure she was better now. Now that she'd had some time away.
"No one said anything directly to me. I . . . I overheard some stuff and just wanted to check in with you – see how you're doing."
"First thing in the morning?" she says, irritation seeping into her voice now too.
He hadn't thought about that. "Oh, yeah. That's a little obnoxious, eh?"
"Uh, yeah."
"Well, I just wanted to be the first one to welcome you back." He smiles broadly but inside he's a little worried that he's dragging her down - back to that place. Which is the very opposite of what he had intended. He had been hoping to come here and bring a little cheer to her life.
He knows it's going to be difficult for her to face everyone back at work, despite having taken this respite for herself. It had been obvious that they all knew. At least bits and pieces of it. Yet, he suspected that Barba was the only one who knew the whole story. And himself.
"Look, Carisi, I know why you're here."
He doesn't say anything.
She leans forward. "You're nosing around trying to find out what's going on. You're still the new guy, trying to fit in. No one tells you anything, right? But can do me a favor?"
"Anything."
"Can you be the one person who doesn't know about this?"
She sighs and leans back. "I'd like to have at least one. One person who can see me as I am now and not pity me for my past."
"I can do that," he says softly. He already knows what happened to her. But he will pretend he doesn't. It is clear how much she needs this. Just one person she can be normal with. One person who doesn't see her as a victim.
"So, you'll stop digging around?"
"Absolutely." He says firmly and she gives him a warm smile.
The seconds pass.
"So, this yoga camp of yours – "
"Retreat," she interrupts.
"Hey, I thought it was some kind of a boot camp."
"Hardly."
. . .