Author's Note: This chapter is a bit shorter, but it felt like I reached a good stopping point, and I wanted to post sooner rather than later so I could share something with this lovely bunch of readers! :) I hope you enjoy the next part of this little road trip! Keep in mind trigger warnings related to serious mental health themes.
As it turned out, Amanda's one-on-one time with Olivia would begin right away. Stunned by all of the emotion she had just put on display, Amanda was more than ready to finally escape the confines of the van, before she would be stuck on the road for the remaining two hours of their drive. Trouble was, she was far too unsteady on her feet to convince Olivia to leave her be. Liv questioned Amanda the minute she expressed her intention to fit in a walk and get some air, asking "You feeling okay? Maybe drink some more water and eat a little something first," in a concerned tone that was equally annoying and endearing.
Despite her dismissive mumble of being "fine," when Amanda stood up from the seat of pillows, the van swerved Fin-style, even though it was in park and their Sergeant was off somewhere exploring. She sunk back down beside Olivia, before the imagined movement sent her tripping or tumbling to the floor of the van. She heaved a sigh at Olivia's whispered "whoa there" before admitting defeat.
"Guess I'm not feeling so fine," she muttered, as the other woman lay a warm hand at the center of her back.
"Okay, let's both take a walk," Olivia decided. She wrapped a firm, protective arm around Amanda as they both rose from a seated position, an unspoken promise to keep her from falling. Luckily, the van was no longer swerving and titling, the dizzy spell having passed somewhat as Liv gently guided them to their feet.
The arm remained around Amanda once they were outside and walking in the warm sunlight, snug and supportive. "I don't think I'm gonna pass out or anything, Liv," she grumbled, though she made no move to put space between them.
"Well, let's not take any chances." Olivia kept her arm right where it was.
Amanda sighed but didn't argue, unwrapping the pack of peanut-butter crackers Olivia had bought her. Her eyes finally focused on the outdoors as she munched and walked, Olivia's firm hold grounding her. She caught sight of the rolling green mountains on the northern horizon, completely carpeted in trees, as they circled past the gazebo centered within the village square, ruffled red, white, and blue garland encircling its wooden rails. Although this décor may have been in early preparation for the end-of-month Memorial Day holiday, it was most likely a mark of rural-town patriotism, judging by the American flags waving from the porches and railings of the buildings along main street. This town aesthetic felt familiar to Amanda, reminiscent of Loganville and quiet country living.
"Sure isn't Manhattan," she commented to Liv.
"No, definitely not. I bought those at an honest-to-God general store," Olivia said, gesturing at the crackers Amanda was nibbling. "What should we go see? That whole main street is really quaint and historic, if you're still up for that walk."
"You're not subtle, Liv. I know you're here to babysit me, not sightsee."
"No, I'm here to spend time with you, like we discussed," Olivia said breezily. "Why not start now?"
"If you say so," Amanda muttered. But a warmth spread over her chest at the simple idea of taking a stroll with Olivia.
The older woman kept her pulled close to her side as they wandered down the town main street, until Amanda stepped away. "Promise I won't fall over," she scoffed, in a tone intended to both thank and scold Olivia for all of the overprotectiveness. But soon after reclaiming her space, Amanda imagined reaching for Olivia's hand as they walked past the row shops of weathered wood and worn brick, so they could sightsee with fingers linked. The urge took her aback, because it had never arisen with anyone else in her life, including every man she had ever dated. With most people, she would have considered holding hands to be annoying and performative, rather than the tender privilege it would be with Olivia. Her hands practically twitched with longing, even though the risk was too much—reaching for Liv, and being rejected, would be more than she could bear right now.
"So, Liv?" Amanda's voice quivered despite her attempt to sound casual, a nauseous unease rising in her belly. "Please don't consider what just happened, with me acting so damn emotional, to be some kind of big red flag, okay? I'm sure you're havin' your usual doubts about me, but…"
"My usual doubts? What do you mean by that, honey?" The endearments, rarely reserved for Amanda until this very afternoon, were now spoken with ease after Amanda hadn't objected to them. Truth be told, she had always envied other recipients of these gentle names, of Olivia's tender touches and focused attention, even as she had scorned any kind of coddling, ranting against "being weak" to Olivia and colleagues and Dr. Hanover and almost anyone who would listen. "I know you don't like pity," had been one of the first things Olivia had acknowledged about Amanda, after she had learned about Patton. Amanda realized now that all this time, she hadn't been fair to feel breathless betrayal at not being held after Esther or Bucci, or gut-twisting jealousy when Olivia talked about the people she actually, rightfully should love.
"You know exactly what I mean, Liv," Amanda burst out, after a painful silence. "All the regular doubts associated with me, my messed-up states of mind…the fact that I'm Amanda Rollins." She snorted a bitter, short laugh, keeping her eyes hyper-focused on the names of the shops, restaurants, and inns they passed as dangerous emotions welled inside her yet again. The Hancock General Store. Marino's Fishing and Outdoor Gear—All Your Adventure Needs on the Delaware River!
"Hey, Amanda?" Olivia reached out and caught her elbow, a signal for her to stop. "What exactly are we talking about right now?" She clearly wasn't up for just reading the storefront signs and pretending that Amanda hadn't spoken.
Amanda considered wrenching her arm away, but thought better of it. Her sight blurred, and she had to blink back a film of tears. She was grateful for the quiet around them— the few other pedestrians were several yards ahead, the rest of the squad presumably inside a shop somewhere, or wandering down other village side streets. She turned to face Olivia, whose dark eyes were intent and seeking, as if trying to look inside Amanda. She averted her gaze as the tears welled again, barely controllable and on the brink of spilling over.
"Let me text Fin to let him know that we'll relax here for a little longer, okay?" Olivia said softly, when Amanda struggled to speak. "And that you and I want more time to look around. How does that sound?"
Amanda nodded, swallowing back tears to the best of her ability, as Olivia turned her attention to her phone. Her throat was enflamed, chest seized with fear, as she tried to choke down weeks, months, maybe years of agony.
A moment later, there was the buzz of a text. "Fin says it's all good; they might grab lunch at this tavern a street or two over," Olivia said. "So you can take your time, honey, with what you want to say," she said, murmuring to Amanda in a lowered tone. Amanda stiffened when she felt a gentle hand at the back of her head, but as it stroked through her hair in that familiar attempt to soothe, she let her shoulders sag.
"I really want us to talk for a bit," Liv continued with quiet, lilting gentleness. "If you want to, that is. We can either grab a quick bite with the rest of the squad, or it can be just us."
Amanda deliberated for a moment, then verbalized her choice. "Just us."
"Okay, good," Olivia murmured. They walked on in silence for a bit, until they reached a florist shop with an awning and a little wooden bench. Olivia put a hand in the crook of Amanda's elbow again, gently steering them in that direction. "Let's sit for a minute," she said.
Amanda was wary, her heart pounding, but she let herself be guided under the shade of the awning. On each side of the bench was a round clay planter overflowing with red and white roses. A little pretty, Amanda thought, her throat closing up as they sat down. A lot pretty, now that Olivia sat between the fragrant blossoms with their soft, swirled petals. Liv and those roses, they were almost too much. Amanda was completely caught up, and she could barely think.
"So what were you saying before, honey?" Olivia asked. The bench was narrow, so they couldn't help but be near one another. Olivia's gaze was centered only on Amanda, the empathy palpable. "You mentioned my doubts, and red flags, and the fact that you're Amanda Rollins."
"Yes, that would be my name," Amanda mumbled with sarcasm, even though Liv was only recapping her own jumbled, nonsensical words of self-deprecation. She felt her cheeks flush with warmth.
"Do you want to know what I associate with Amanda Rollins?" Olivia said, affecting a deliberate, thoughtful tone. "I'm long, long past any doubts. There are other things that do come to mind, though. She's loyal, for one thing. And so completely dedicated, to her job and most everyone in her life. One of the hardest workers I know, on- and off-duty. Fierce, funny, snarky, stubborn as hell, occasionally annoying."
Amanda gave a "hmm" of agreement with Liv's gentle teasing and the undeniable facts. She was hella stubborn, and occasionally annoying? She could be a total pain in the ass, was more like it. The plain and simple truth didn't bother her.
"She's got fire inside of her. She never gives up. And she's so, so important, to me and to all of us," Olivia continued, the gentle mirth from before replaced with hoarse emotion. "That's the best way to sum up Amanda Rollins, if you ask me."
Amanda averted her eyes. She felt a warm hand clasp one of hers, which was quivering in response to Olivia's words. The tears were rolling down her cheeks, continuously by that point. There was no stopping them.
"Damn it, Olivia. I don't want to cry anymore this weekend," Amanda said.
Olivia squeezed, then released her hand. "You want to know what else I think?" she said, her thumb smoothing over one cheek to collect a few tears.
"I'm sure you'll tell me," Amanda said, throwing in some classic snark, just for Liv, her lips quirking as she glanced at the other woman.
Olivia answered her smirk with a sigh and a smile of her own, but continued undeterred, her tone turning serious as she leaned in towards Amanda. "I think you, Amanda, are human, and that you have been going through a very difficult time, for a while now, with limited help. I think it's okay for you to cry." She trailed her knuckles down Amanda's tearstained cheek, in tender validation, before lowering her voice to a near-whisper. "And I think that sometimes, you just want someone to hug you, and hold you." Olivia's voice actually broke as she said the words; it was as if she knew that she was speaking Amanda's most fragile truth. She had shifted close enough to Amanda that their thighs were touching, as if she were debating whether to hold her right then.
"Really? Me?" Amanda scoffed in halfhearted challenge. Her heart thudded, and she couldn't look anywhere but at her lap.
"Yes, you," Olivia whispered, without hesitation. Amanda felt coaxing, gentle arms wrap around her, and she leaned against Olivia's soft body. Liv kissed her head as Amanda sniffled and whimpered, her breathing shallow. She was beyond words by that point. There was little left to be said, Olivia having been the first person to voice something Amanda hadn't even acknowledged out loud to herself. She realized then that for the first time in her life, she may have let someone get too close, and she didn't know whether to fight that or just surrender.
"You're okay, honey. I'm right here," Olivia murmured. "If there's anything you want to talk about, I'm here to listen."
"You don't need to hear any more about my problems and all the crap inside my head," Amanda said, but she allowed herself to be cradled for the moment.
"You've texted me every morning since Simon and Tucker died to ask how I am," Olivia pointed out, her voice quivering. "Even when we're working together that very same day, I get a message from you right when I wake up. Why wouldn't I listen to you?"
Amanda let out a shaky sigh, glad that her head was pillowed on Olivia's shoulder, so that eye contact wasn't involved. "I'm not good at this talking stuff, Liv," she admitted. "I...it's hard for me."
"I know, honey. But I want you to know that you can talk to me whenever you need. You don't have to keep everything all bottled up inside." Liv's hand trailed up and down Amanda's back, then cradled her head.
"Can I tell you more when I'm ready?" Amanda asked, after a long pause, and she got a handle on her voice.
"Of course."
"It's pretty bad stuff, Liv," Amanda warned, the words strangled.
"Oh, sweetheart," Olivia whispered. Amanda felt another kiss to her temple. "You can tell me, I promise you. No matter how bad it seems. You can tell me whenever you're ready."
Amanda nodded, sitting up and shifting out of Olivia's arms. "Thanks, Liv, really. But I'm gonna do my best to keep it together for this here crazy weekend."
"Well, we can still spend more time together, just like this, if you decide you want to talk or you start feeling badly again over the weekend, okay?" Olivia suggested gently, a protective hand lingering on Amanda's arm. "There's no one thing on the agenda. The Chief left that up to me."
"Thank God," Amanda said. "We've all been worried that there would be a bunch of ridiculous exercises and cheesy pre-planned activities."
"Nope, no set itinerary. Mostly, this is a chance to come together off-duty. The Chief knows that times have been hard, and that there are more difficult times ahead. And that our unity as a squad is key to us being our best. He did send a long email of suggested activities, but I know my people, and what to disregard."
"Do I even wanna know?"
"Probably not. But there were plenty of activities I nixed. Let's just say that some of his recommendations included the trust exercise where you fall back, a few meditative chants, bobbing for apples, sack races, and tug of war. He also suggested a dance party that involved the Macarena, YMCA, and the Chicken Dance. He joked—at least I think it was a joke—that we might do the Chicken Dance alongside some actual chickens, since we selected the farm option."
"Oh, Good Lord," Amanda said. "Now I'm thinking the Chief might actually appreciate Kat's recording of our little singalong from earlier. That man tries way too hard sometimes. I'm surprised that he didn't actually have us singing Kumbaya and holding hands, like Fin said."
"He might have mentioned something about singing Amazing Grace."
"Jesus," Amanda muttered.
After the additional, unexpected time spent in Olivia's arms—Amanda was still reeling at this sudden level of closeness—she and Liv continued their walk through the historic town of Hancock, until the road curved and there was a break in the buildings. Amanda was relieved that their walk had become quiet and uneventful—Olivia pointing out a cardinal that fluttered out of a tree and landed on a fence post, ruffling its scarlet feathers; Amanda gesturing to a row of wooden rocking chairs on the large, wraparound porch of a clapboard farmhouse ("Yup, Liv, we've got real country vibes now.").
Those vibes would only intensify, starting with the next stop on their walk: a miniature brown barn called the Cow Lick, which happened to function as the town's local ice cream shop, complete with a walk-up counter, wooden picnic tables, and black-and-white cow print napkins.
"Now, this is just in-your-face country," Amanda said, gesturing to the establishment and its creaky, swinging sign, which was painted with a cartoon cow licking an ice cream cone and dressed in a straw hat, no less. Homemade Ice Cream: Farm to Cone.
"You know what, Liv? What the hell. Maybe this can be our lunch."
Olivia snorted in disbelief.
"Hey, we could buy into Noah and Jesse's theory that it's always time for ice cream."
"I've got to tell you, I'm a little over that sales pitch of theirs," Olivia commented, Amanda smirking at the thought of the kids' animated arguments at every Central Park playdate ("Pleeeease? It's ice cream. We need it!"). Usually, all of this giggling and conspiring took place about a half-hour after she or Olivia had already bought each an ice cream bar from an outdoor vendor. Despite neither mom ever caving on seconds of ice cream, both kids were still ardent and determined to achieve this elusive goal.
"C'mon, Liv, let's do it," Amanda said, her tone hushed and conspiratorial. "It's Farm to Cone, see? Sounds really wholesome and healthy to me."
"Do you not remember that whole picnic of Italian pastries and cookies?" Olivia asked. "As well as two coffees this morning? I know that we agreed to splurge a bit this weekend, but come on now, Rollins," she said, a teasing elbow bumping Amanda's arm.
Despite Olivia's initial disdain, ice cream for lunch actually happened. At first, Amanda had been half-kidding as she marched up to the barn counter, choking back laughter at Liv's muttered "You can't be serious." But when a server slid open the window, they both got a whiff of pure, homemade creaminess and fresh-baked waffle cones, and they were done for.
They sat across from each other at one of the picnic tables, Amanda with a cone of fudge-brownie ice cream, Olivia having chosen a classic French vanilla as her flavor. Liv hadn't gone quite as big as Amanda, with her double scoop in an extra-large waffle cone, instead settling on a single scoop, but she had treated herself to a warm, from-the-oven waffle bowl. The ice cream was great, to be sure, but the best part was Olivia looking so beautiful in allowing herself another rare indulgence. Amanda was all about the taste of chocolate, but she imagined herself kissing the vanilla off of Olivia's lips, glinting moist and delectable after each spoonful of ice cream. And Amanda knew, then, that she had already surrendered. She was in love with Olivia Benson.
As she finished off her entire ice cream, Amanda reasoned that she must be the stupidest person alive to add a sugar rush to the high she was feeling for Olivia. She knew that this runaway glee might just as easily turn to paralyzing fear and doubt—her racing heart arresting in a flashback or breath-stealing reminder of her horrendous shortcomings as a person, as had happened multiple times, within the span of just a few short hours. But this weekend had taken on an unstoppable momentum, like Fin's driving, or the endless spinning of the roulette wheel at a casino, that dizzying whirl that always transfixed Amanda after a bet, filling her with the greatest thrill and the greatest helplessness.