A/N: Season's Greetings! I hope you all are warm and safe and well. We're rounding the corner on the second act; hopefully you're all still enjoying it. Thank you for the kind words in the reviews, I love love love reading them. Whatever you may or may not celebrate during this season, I wish you all the best things. Hope to get the next chapter up ASAP. Spoiler alert: this one is another cliff hanger. Sorry.

Rating: MA

Spoilers: None

Trigger warnings: Consent by coercion, weapons, voyeurism, homophobia, references to rape, captivity

Impasse

The shadows from afternoon light were growing long when the two captive detectives attempted to make sense of what Rhoda had been trying to tell them. Arms crossed over her chest, Olivia stood beside the window, gazing out across the landscape, impatient in her desire to get back to her normal life.

"It just doesn't make a whole lotta sense," Rollins sighed.

"Reasoning behind rape rarely makes any sense," Liv reminded her.

"But – how did they cross paths? Does she love him? What does he have over her that she feels so compelled to please him?"

"Stockholm Syndrome is a very real thing – "

"Nah, I don't buy that," Rollins interjected, shaking her head,"- the power dynamic is all wrong. She would normally be younger than him in that case, but I'm sure Rhoda is older than Vince."

"Yes, but! I think the age difference in this case might be part of the reason why she listens to him," Olivia explained. "She's older, maybe from a small place where she was bullied, or grew up in a discriminatory household? If all she wants is to be what she thinks is 'normal' . . . maybe when she met the first man who offered her that . . . ?" Liv shrugged, rubbing at her temples. Her stitches were healing well, it was the black eye that seemed insistent on giving her a headache.

"I think we should talk to her some more," Amanda told her.

"I mean, we can try. She hasn't been much for making friends."

"We have to at least try – the way I see it, she's our best ticket outta here. Otherwise, we're just sitting around waiting on Vince's next move."

"I know just how that's gonna go," Liv exhaled, sitting heavily next to Amanda on the edge of the bed.

A knock at the door punctuated their thoughts, and then Rhoda swept into the room with a tray of supper. She seemed less brooding than earlier in the day, and there was more food on the tray than usual.

"I made supper!" she declared, putting the tray down on the chair again. "I thought maybe I could stay awhile, again. If you two don't mind?"

Liv and Amanda exchanged a glance.

"Of course not," Amanda smiled. "Be our guest."

Rhoda grinned and motioned to the tray. "These sandwiches are somethin' my momma used to make; I know the recipe by heart. Thought you'd enjoy it."

"You must've been close to your mom," Rollins continued, taking one of the sandwiches.

Rhoda shoved her hands in her pockets and shook her head. "Not – not really. It was me, and Momma and my two sisters, but they were close. I just kinda . . . hovered in the background."

"Like you were invisible," Amanda said, knowingly. The sandwiches had a spiced chicken, with pickles and a sauce that was unfamiliar but great. "Wow! These are awesome!" she exclaimed, still chewing.

Rhoda beamed, blushing faintly.

"What about your sisters? Where are they, now?" Liv asked.

"When my momma died, they moved out of state. They're married. They're . . . " Rhoda frowned, "normal. Momma was always fussin' over them; they were really girly, just like her."

"But you weren't?" Rollins inferred.

She snorted, as she had at the implication Vince was her spouse. "Not at all. I was always up a tree or in the mud. Up to no good, according to Momma."

"Mm – I loved climbin' trees when I was a kid," Rollins smiled.

Rhoda widened her eyes. "You?"

"Ohh yeah," Rollins smirked. "I grew up in the South; I climbed every tree within runnin' distance. Caught frogs, too."

"Is that why you – " she trailed off and looked away. "Do you think that's why you don't sleep with men?"

"Trust me, darlin'," Amanda flashed a flirty smile, "I've slept with my fair share of men."

Olivia hid her own smile behind the sandwich she was finishing. She had a suspicion that Amanda's share was, and probably would continue to be more than fair.

"Did you hate it?"

A breath of anticipatory silence filled the room. Olivia watched Amanda's face surreptitiously.

"Sometimes I did . . . " the blonde answered slowly. Her blue eyes were thoughtful, but distant, looking into her past, "took me a long time to learn that it's not about who you have sex with. If you're having it for the wrong reason, it's not going to be great. It's so easy to find reasons to have it for no reason at all, you know?

"But you know, it changes, that first time you realize what you're doin' it for. I know that probably sounds like a fairy tale . . . I guess I kind of believed it was, too. Until it wasn't." Rollins shrugged. Her eyes focused back onto the shy, odd woman who was looking at her the way Olivia imagined some people probably looked at their priests.

Rhoda licked her lips, trying to wet her dry mouth. "I – " she tried, but the words were knotted in her throat. "When I was in high school, I tried to . . . with this guy," Rhoda began, her voice barely above a whisper. "But he . . . I – "

"Yeah," Rollins exhaled, her eyes sympathetic, "I know what that's like, too."

Rhoda held the blonde's gaze for a long moment. Nobody was sure if she would speak again, but before there was an answer, they were all startled by the slam of the front door to the cabin, and the heavy crash of Vince's boots.

"Rhoda!"

The bellow reverberated through the cabin, causing the blood to drain from Rhoda's face. She spun on her heel and rushed out of the room, leaving Liv and Amanda side by side on the bed. Thought they strained to hear what followed, the shout had immediately dropped to a muffled, terse blustering that couldn't be discerned.

It went on for five minutes, then closer to ten. Finally, those heavy steps started toward the bedroom. The door flew open hard enough to hit the wall behind, and there was Vince, his face ablaze with fury, chest heaving.

"Both of you," he spat, "get your clothes off. Now."

The two women glanced at each other, but for barely a moment, as they heard the sound of his shotgun. It got them both on their feet, Olivia holding out a pre-emptive hand.

"Ok, Vince. Just a second, we heard you," Liv told him.

He shouldered the gun, but stopped walking, waiting. The two captive women shucked everything down to bras and panties as he stared, while Rhoda hung back in the doorway.

"Now get on the bed," he ordered.

They complied, this time laying close enough that Liv could partially embrace Rollins, driven by a want to shield her from Vince's gaze. He took a step to the chair where the dinner tray still was, and knocked it to the floor, sending what was food was left flying to the floor.

"Rhoda, get over here." She shut the door and came quickly but hesitantly and sat, her face a composition of fear and contemplation. He turned his gaze back on the bed and spoke through gritted teeth: "Start. Now."

It was as good an excuse as any for Liv to protect Rollins' body with her own, and she moved over her, kissing her softly at the spot where her ear met her jawline. "I'm sorry," she breathed, "I'm so sorry for all of this."

Amanda didn't get to respond because the kiss moved to her mouth. The warm cover of Liv's skin on her own was somehow comforting, even in the extremity of their situation. She arched into the kiss, opening her mouth to the wetness of Olivia's tongue, and at the same time sliding her hand into the front of Liv's panties.

Their hands were cool, and she was shockingly aware of it as cool fingers plied against where she was warmest. The kiss stuttered and set Liv panting against Rollins' mouth as the fingers hit home, brushing against her slick, engorged center.

"What did I tell you, Ro?" Vince said, curling his lip in disgusted anger. "It was all an act! They're not even married!"

Everything in the room stilled. Amanda would've sworn that she heard Liv's heartrate nearly triple. Both women on the bed leaned up, craning to see Vince.

He tossed two leather badge wallets into Rhoda's lap. "They're cops!"

Amanda and Olivia breathed shallowly, motionless as Rhoda looked at the IDs. The look on her face changed. "But . . . that doesn't mean - "

"What? That they don't mean it?" he laughed. "Come on! You think they didn't put on a show? To save their lives? Or, what – they just like to fool around in front of strange Dykes in the middle of the woods?"

Blood colored Rhoda's face, as her grip on the wallets tightened to a clamp whitening her fingers.

"Now," Vince went on, "we're doing what we talked about." He held the shotgun out to Rhoda for her to take.

"Vince, wait. I don't think – "

"Take. The gun."

Rhoda sighed and grabbed the shotgun by the barrel. Olivia, still watching silently from the bed, tightened her grip on Amanda when she saw Vince's hands go to the waist of his pants.

"If they're cops," Rhoda tried again, "that just makes this even more of a bad idea!"

"You'd know all about bad ideas, wouldn't you, Ro?" he chuckled. Glancing at her face again, he grew even more impatient. "Listen, do you want to be normal, or not? Stop dreaming of and acting like a pussy, and pay fucking attention!"

She seemed to give in, her shoulders sagging, her expression cloudy again. She pulled the gun up and shouldered it, aiming it obediently at the bed. "You shouldn't have lied," Rhoda told them, her voice quavering. Her eyes were dark, and hurt.

"When are you gonna learn that I'm the only one you can trust?" Vince chided her. He got his pants undone and dropped them. On the bed Liv tucked her chin toward her chest and told Amanda to close her eyes.

But before Vince took another step toward the bed, all the air seemed sucked out of the room by the sound of the shotgun as Rhoda pulled the trigger.

TBC