Author's Note: Hello, all! Sorry for the absence – sometimes I have to live real life for a while. Lol But here is a little something for you. Read it slow, enjoy it. Please review, and yes, I am still taking requests. This chapter takes place around the end of S16, post-Forgiving Rollins, but prior to any hint of Tuckson. Thanks for all the love you folks send! See you again soon!
Spoilers: The Lewis Arc, Wednesday's Child, Forgiving Rollins
Rating: T for this Chapter Specifically
Trigger Warnings: Inferred references to assault
Taste
Olivia scooted her chair close to the window and tipped her head to the wall, closing her eyes. Even with the window mostly open, the air was barely moving. The room was sticky with the heat and humidity of what had been a blazing July heatwave. She could feel the pricking of perspiration across her forehead, on her upper lip, and she wished again that this undercover case was over.
Behind her and across the room, Amanda was asleep on the double futon bed that they had been supplied when the job got started. They were supposed to be passing as Meth-addicted roommates, which luckily, combined with the heat, allowed plenty of time for napping. Coincidentally, it also excused a rather scant wardrobe, which only heightened the frustration between the two women. Liv rolled her head in the direction of the bed, without lifting it from the wall. Rollins had fallen asleep face-down, clutching a pillow. The pair of grey boyshorts she had on were riding up, tight over the rise of her buttocks. A thin, ribbed white tank top was the only other thing the blonde was wearing.
Olivia licked her lips and wished for a cold beer.
The next thing she knew, she was startled out of a drowse, still leaned back in her chair. Rollins was still asleep, but was tossing now, a bad dream causing her to jerk and mumble.
"Amanda," Liv said evenly, but got no reaction. She waited a moment, but Rollins continued, so she sat up and pried her sticky thighs from the chair that had melded to her. "Hey, Rollins?"
Amanda was in the full throes of a nightmare, it seemed: kicking at her invisible monster, clutching at the blankets and whimpering. Olivia leaned over her, placing a hand on one of Amanda's shoulders. Before she could speak again, Rollins' eyelids snapped open and one of her hands shot for the bedside table. In a blink, Liv found herself staring down the barrel of Amanda's gun. Olivia froze, waiting to see if Rollins would come out of the panic on her own. Another blink, then another, and her blue eyes seemed to clear. Liv wrapped a hand around the gun barrel and pulled it away, laying it back on the table as Amanda's eyes welled with tears.
"I . . . I'm sorry," she whispered, swiping an angry hand at the evidence of her weakness. "It was a bad dream."
"I'll say," Liv nodded, sitting on the edge of the bed. "You wanna talk about it?"
Rollins looked at her hands. "Patton."
It had been a long time since that name had come up – long enough that Liv was genuinely surprised. She frowned. "That sucks. Has this been happening often?" It was easier – too easy – for her to slip into Captain Mode than Friend Mode and she immediately reproached herself.
"No. Honest," Amanda shook her head. "I think it's just this heat."
Wanting to believe her, Liv stood up to give her some space. "Want me to make us something to eat? Nothing's been going on here, all night."
"Yes. Please."
Rollins hovered, restless, in the doorway to the kitchen, watching Olivia gather supplies from the fridge to make salad. The humidity made it hard to want to do anything other than sleep, but they didn't hold the silence against each other, just slipped into a simple routine since they'd been sharing the tiny bachelor apartment.
Talking about Patton still scared her, but if there was anything that scared her more, it was the thought of confessing how much she enjoyed being undercover with Olivia. She loved to watch her prepare food, loved sneaking glances at her morning routine while she washed her face and frowned at imagined imperfections in the bathroom's dirty mirror. They had giggled over middle-of-the-night card games and fallen asleep watching old movies on the crappy TV. Amanda would never admit it, but it was an escape from her real life that she was grateful for.
"Liv?"
"Yeah?"
"How long . . . after Lewis . . . before you could – " Rollins cleared her throat and looked at the floor, "you know. Before you trusted someone, Cassidy, to - ?"
Olivia stopped peeling the orange in her hands and sucked citrus from her fingertip, her gaze falling on Amanda's face. She considered for a moment. What she replied was, "I don't entirely know that I did."
"Did what?"
"Trusted him, or anyone, to touch me. Like that." She started up chopping again. "I mean, Brian and I ended it, five months later, and barely a month after the trial. Not specifically over sex, of course, but . . . I couldn't open up. I couldn't relax. And I think it finally drove us apart."
Amanda thought back to the trial, to the end of the relationship with Cassidy. She was fairly sure that Liv hadn't dated anyone else since. It hadn't really occurred to her that the reason was still William Lewis, although she could understand it. She wanted to ask more questions, but she knew she had already taken a step over a boundary, so she swallowed her thoughts and went to help with the salad instead.
/* /* /* /* /*
The night was cooler, by perhaps two degrees, and they had fallen asleep atop the covers on the futon, sprawled out in their underwear and tank tops. Manhattan had slowed to a sluggish crawl in the heatwave, and even the usual city sounds seemed muted. Olivia awoke to the sound of Amanda's muffled moans breaking the stuffy silence. It took a second for her to recognize that she was tossing and turning again, her sweat-damp skin tangling in the blanket as she fought Patton in her nightmares.
Liv rolled over and reached for an arm. "Amanda. Hey." She caught a wrist as the blonde flailed. "Amanda, wake up."
The hand connected to the encircled wrist balled into a fist and swung for Olivia's face. The brunette tightened her grip and pushed back, calling Rollins' name louder. Instead of waking, she began to kick out her legs and struggle harder.
"Chrissake, Rollins," Olivia mumbled. She threw one of her legs over Amanda's to keep from getting kneed in the stomach, then shifted her weight so that she was covering Rollins completely, hoping the weight would settle her anxiety.
It took a minute, but she did start to relax. Olivia stayed still, taking deep, even breaths, until Amanda's breathing began to mirror the rhythm. Finally, she brought a hand up, brushing against Rollins' forehead gently.
"Amanda." This time, those blue eyes opened, just a few inches from the dark, sleepy brown ones looking down at her.
"Liv? Why're you on top'pa me?" she slurred.
"You were having another nightmare. I couldn't get you to wake up."
Asked and answered, yet neither of them moved. Both awake now, the two women were starting to register how much of their bodies were touching: legs tangled together, warm thighs on warm thighs, chests expanding with each breath to meet in the middle.
Amanda's midsection tightened with want, as her earlier words came back to her. How long . . . after Lewis . . . before you could – you know. For longer than she wanted to admit, Liv was the only one that Amanda wanted to "you know" with, and she wasn't even entirely sure why.
But now, after what Olivia had confessed earlier? Damned if Amanda was going to be the one to do or say anything first.
Damned if she was going to move from under her, either, though.
Then Liv cleared her throat, mumbled an apology and rolled away. Rollins missed her weight immediately, but said nothing as she watched Olivia get up. "I'm going to take a shower, see if I can cool off some."
Yet even the sluice of cold water from the lime-stained shower in their cramped bathroom wasn't enough to make Liv forget the way her body lined up against Amanda's had made her feel. She let the water pool into her cupped hands, then splashed it down over her chest, her nipples puckered with the temperature change.
Her answer had only been partly true, earlier. It was true that she hadn't fully trusted Brian, with her body or her demons, after her time with Lewis. It was also true that she hadn't seen anyone since he'd ended it, but she had trusted again – trusted Amanda, even when her gut had argued against it.
And, she had wanted . . . did want to be touched again. It made very little sense to her, but that seemed par for the course, when it came to Olivia and sex. Or love.
Love? she wondered, thrilling at the freeze of the water as it coursed from the tips of her dark hair to the small of her back and then over her ass. She shivered. Maybe.
Maybe.
/* /* /* /* /*
"You want anything from the bodega?" Rollins hollered, shoving her wallet into the ass pocket of the cut-off denim shorts she had thrown on.
"Can you get some more oranges, please?" Liv answered from the kitchen, "and maybe something I can make up the rest of that pasta with? Sausage, maybe?"
Amanda finished pulling her hair into a ponytail off her shoulders. "Spicy, or not?"
When she came out of the bathroom, Liv was leaning in the kitchen doorway, wiping her hands on a kitchen towel. "In this heat? Not," she made a face.
"You'd never survive in Georgia," Rollins giggled, making the older woman roll her eyes.
It seemed almost odd, parting the way that they did, without kissing each other goodbye. The tiny, grungy apartment that was so far away from any life that either of them would have chosen, the undercover case that wasn't even real life, was somehow more domestic and peaceful than their own lives. The surreality of it seemed to compound as time went on.
It certainly hadn't escaped either of them. Olivia finished with the kitchen, checked her phone for any news from work, then took up her place by the window and the book she had been trudging through. Before she knew it, the sound of Rollins' key in the lock had her eyes snapping open from the catnap she hadn't known she had succumbed to in the humid late afternoon.
"Want some help with supper?" the blonde asked, tossing her wallet and keys onto the futon as she shut the door.
And that's how Olivia found herself making supper with Amanda in the miniature kitchen of their temporary home. She put Amanda in charge of chopping vegetables while she measured pasta and spice portions, then started on pasta sauce and a garlic butter for bread while Rollins cooked the sausage.
The smells alone had Amanda's stomach knotted with hunger, so when her tasks were done, she grabbed one of the oranges she'd picked up. Liv glanced sidelong at her as she popped a peeled segment into her mouth.
"Better not ruin your appetite."
"Not possible," Rollins drawled around the splash of citrus when her teeth bit down. She smirked. "You want some?"
A pause, then, "Yes."
Rollins came over to Liv at the stove and pulled a segment of orange free. A fine mist of citrus glittered for a second in time, where the sun filled the kitchen. Without really thinking, she held out the piece of fruit between finger and thumb, poised to feed it to Olivia. "Here."
A blush rose in Amanda's cheeks as Liv looked at the orange, then Amanda's eyes. They were close enough that Liv could smell the scent of shampoo and clean sweat, even over the supper cooking. Desire buzzed through her midsection, and Olivia leaned in, parting her lips. The thud of Rollins' heartbeat echoed like a steel drum as she placed the orange to Liv's mouth - fast, fast so she couldn't notice her trembling.
Before she could drop her hand away, one of Liv's came up and encircled Amanda's wrist in an echo of the previous night's episode. The tip of her tongue flicked lightly over the pads of the forefinger and thumb, humming at the sticky citrus residue.
I'm going to burst into flame, Rollins thought wildly, what is she doing?!
Then the spell was broken, and Olivia was holding up a wooden spoon. "Taste this. Let me know if it needs anything."
Amanda knew full-well what she needed, but it didn't go in pasta sauce.
Taste this . . .
Jesus Christ.
/* /* /* /* /*
Olivia woke in the night again. For the first time in weeks, she was cooled off – even chilly. She sat up, recognizing the sound of a downpour outside, breaking the humidity. After a beat, the sound was drowned out by a clap of thunder that was chasing lightning intent on splitting the night sky open. She pulled up the light blanket they hadn't been needing from the foot of the bed, and went to throw it over Rollins and herself – then realized Rollins wasn't there.
The door to the bathroom was open, the light off. Liv's heart rate jumped, confused, and she got up, taking a couple of steps in no particular direction. Another flash of lightning lit up the shadows in the room with white light, and thunder crashed, giving Olivia goosebumps.
Then she heard it.
Amanda, laughing.
Following the faint sound toward the kitchen, it got louder – as did the sound of the rain. The window near the stove was wide open; the screen deftly popped from its frame, and propped against the wall beside. Liv shivered in the cool air as she stepped up to the space and peered into the dark rainstorm.
Amanda was leaning against the fire escape railing on her forearms, face turned up to the rain, laughing. She was drenched, and rivulets of water coursed down her skin, dripped from the bottom of her panties and tank top.
"Amanda!" Liv shouted, "What are you doing? You must be freezing!"
"Right?" she grinned, "Isn't it glorious?!"
Liv rolled her eyes. "You don't even have any shoes on! What if you slip?"
"You think I never climbed anything barefoot growin' up?" Rollins laughed. "I hated shoes!" She motioned to Olivia, "Come out here – it feels amazing!"
Liv took a step back. "You're crazy," she declared. "The lightning - "
Amanda stepped closer and held out a hand. "We won't get struck by lightning, I promise. D'you trust me?"
Ever since Lewis, dragging her down her old fire escape . . . tangled in her bedsheets, his grip breaking her wrist. . . . She started to shake her head, then bit her lip, not willing to say aloud that she didn't trust Rollins. "Amanda, come back in. Please," Liv pleaded .
The rain was still pouring steadily, and Olivia could see Amanda's lips trembling when she shivered. It wasn't the only thing she could see: Amanda's tank top was soaked, and the outline of her breasts and hardened nipples were clearly visible. It sparked the only heat now left in the middle of the storm. Thunder rumbled again as Olivia reached out and took Rollins' hand, ducking her head and carefully maneuvering through to the fire escape.
A smile broke on the blonde's face. "In Georgia, when the heat would break after a hot Summer with little rain, I'd go out and run the fields."
"Of course you would," Liv laughed breathlessly. Her skin was still hot from the apartment, and it turned out the rain did feel wonderful. She took a deep breath and let the tension from the heat shake out of her as the rain soaked through her clothes.
Raindrops quivered, catching light on Rollins' eyelashes, and Liv was mesmerized as she spoke. "Amanda, you're cold. Let's get you inside." She reached out to rub her hands over Amanda's arms, only to realize that they were still holding one another's hand. It made her feel secure, and the surprise of that safety turned her stomach over with butterflies.
Thunder crashed, and Amanda's mouth captured hers where they stood. What was left of their body heat mingled immediately, drawing attention to all the lines and curves where their bodies touched. Amanda's kiss was hesitant, but so warm, and it stopped Olivia's shivering. Liv relaxed into it, opening her mouth on instinct, to share the heat and invite more in. She tasted rainwater and lip gloss, and the taste that was just Amanda.
Olivia wanted more of all of it.
They were both shivering when they stopped, but not entirely from the cold. Wordlessly, they climbed back into the apartment, where Rollins popped the screen back into place. When she turned around, Liv was gone. The sound of her clothes dripping seemed very loud on the tile.
Amanda sighed and took slow, careful steps in the direction of the main room, not wanting to slip. As she came to the doorway between the two spaces, a dry, fluffy towel hit her in the face. She caught it, then gazed at Liv, who stood near the end of the bed. "C'mere, Amanda," she said quietly.
Olivia pulled the towel from her partner's hands, rubbing it gently over arms and shoulders. She kissed Amanda, hard this time, nipping at her lips. A hand slid beneath the wet tank top, urging her to take it off, and Rollins complied. The towel pinned between them was forgotten, falling to the floor as Liv's kisses moved from lips to throat, which Amanda offered on a groan.
Then from throat to chest, Olivia's hands framing the blonde's ribcage as she nosed over chilled skin to rigid nipple, hot mouth working to remind them of the previous heat. Dry and warm and inviting, the bed was beckoning them. Like the thunder, they crashed, tangled together still damp, Liv's weight on Rollins' body like during the nightmare.
. . . TO BE CONTINUED