A/N: Like I said, you're gonna hate me.
TW: Mentions of sexual assault and violence, nothing too graphic.
Eight hours.
They had been working him for eight hours.
Olivia, Amanda and chief Garland were currently watching through the one-way mirror as Fin had his third go in the poorly lit interrogation room.
"Like I said, I'll only talk to the blonde." The man croaked.
"Come on, Liv. Let me go back in there." Amanda said impatiently. "I swear I almost had him."
Olivia clenched her jaw and studied the man for a few seconds. "Fine, but you're not going in alone."
"Fine by me. Give me two minutes."
The man in the interrogation room was Mark Miller.
Their main suspect in a case involving three young women, all raped and killed. Sarah in January, Catherine in February and Anne in March, one week ago.
Like most serials, he was smart and he got off on the attention. He also had a type. Slim, blonde and blue eyed women.
And he had yet to lawyer up.
When Amanda came back, the captain felt her jaw clench again. The detective had let her hair down, unbuttoned two buttons in her yellow top and was currently carrying a bottle of water and a bag of chips.
"Let's do this."
All though she would never, ever, admit it, this would normally make Olivia a little hot and bothered. She vividly remembered the first time she watched her then new colleague do her thing in the interrogation room. She couldn't acknowledge it at the time, but there was just something about the way the southern woman balanced just a bit of charm and just a bit of cockiness when coming face to face with the scum of the earth.
Today however, and like most days lately, Olivia's nerves were frayed. And all she saw was her girlfriend in a potentially dangerous situation.
"Heard you wanted to talk to me, Mr. Miller?" Amanda said, giving Fin the "I got this" look.
Fin gave a short nod, got up and left the room, carefully eyeing Olivia in the process.
"I only want to talk to you. I don't want her in here." Mark said while glaring at the brunette.
Amanda gave him a sympathetic smile as she sat down and placed the water and snacks in front of him.
"Yeah, but here's the thing, Mark. She's my boss, and she doesn't really trust me to be alone with you, so this is where we are."
"Why don't she trust you?"
The blonde looked back at Olivia and flipped her hair in the process. They locked eyes for a few seconds (I'm doing my thing/I know) before she turned around again.
"She knows I've got a soft spot for men like you."
"Men like me?"
"Mhm. Strong, charismatic, smart... dangerous..." Amanda gave him a flirtatious smile before biting down on her lip.
He leaned back in his chair and grinned.
"So you have a type."
"Oh, absolutely."
"Lots of daddy issues?"
"Definitely."
"That's how I like 'em."
"Really? Daddy issues is your thing, huh?"
"Makes 'em easy, but you know that."
"I do." Amanda shrugged.
"How many men have you been with, detective?"
"Ok, that's enough." Olivia said suddenly, her voice deep with contempt.
"No, no, it's fine, captain. It's all good." Amanda waved her hand at the brunette without looking at her. Still deep in her little act.
For Olivia though, it wasn't all good. At all. Her chest tightened and her head was pounding. She wanted to physically pull Amanda from that chair and drag her out of the room.
But for now, she didn't move.
"I can't give you a number, Mark. Because I honestly don't know. But we're not here to talk about me."
"It's more fun though, don't you think? And women always love when they get to talk about themselves."
"Yeah, well, today I want to hear about you. And Sarah, Catherine and Anne."
"I don't know what you're talking about." He said as he folded his arms.
There. First sign of unsteadiness.
"No? You didn't meet them on Tinder, take them out on dates?"
"I meet a lot of women on Tinder."
"I bet you do." Amanda smiled before biting down on her lip again. "What about me? Would you swipe right on me?"
"Definitely."
"And hypothetically, where would you take me?"
"Hypothetically?"
"Mhm."
"I think you're an all American girl, but you like to be a little wooed. So I would take you somewhere they serve overpriced pizza and wine."
Amanda gave a little nod of approval. "Good call. And then?"
"I would ask a lot of questions. Like I said, women love to talk about themselves."
"Well, some of us do."
"And then you would say something like 'it's getting late, I should go home', but I would convince you to stay for just one more glass and you would give in because you're easy like that."
It was barely audible, but Amanda could hear how Olivia carefully cleared her throat.
"And, hypothetically, after that last glass, you would be just tipsy enough to let me kiss you when we left the restaurant. And I would ask if you wanted a nightcap."
"I'm always down for a nightcap." The blonde was toying with her necklace now and she caught him looking at her mouth. It made her want to gag, but on the outside she stayed calm and composed.
"I know you are. Women like you always are."
All though Amanda couldn't see her, she knew that the brunette behind her was biting down on the inside of her cheeks to keep herself from interrupting them. She knew, without looking, how pissed off Olivia was right now.
"So, we get home to your apartment. What happens next?"
"I don't know if I can tell you. I think your girlfriend is getting a little jealous."
"My girlfriend?" The detective said, her voice laced with mockery, but on the inside her heart was racing because she hadn't seen this coming.
"I see the way she looks at you. People don't look at someone like that unless they're fucking them."
"That's it." Olivia snapped and walked with hurried steps over to the table before she grabbed his shirt. "I would love nothing more than to wipe that ugly smirk off of your face right now."
"Captain Benson!" Chief Garland shouted from the door.
"We know what you did to those women, you sick son of a bitch."
"Benson!" Garland said again. "Out. Now."
She gave him one last glare before she let go of his shirt and backed away.
"What the hell, captain?" Garland said with his arms thrown out when Olivia slammed the door shut behind her.
"He's playing her!"
"She's getting to him. You have to trust her! That was our agreement when you disclosed your relationship in the first place. You trust and treat her like any other subordinate and she lets you do your job as captain."
"I know, but-"
"No. Let her do her job. Are we clear?"
Olivia dragged a hand through her hair and let out a short puff of frustration. She momentarily glared at him before she turned to the glass. "Fine."
Garland pushed the button then and Mark Miller's voice filled the room.
"Your girlfriend's got quite the temper. Does she talk to you like that?"
"Never." There was no point in denying that they were a couple. Better to keep it going without any unnecessary interruptions.
"Ah, you just lied."
"Nah, we fight sometimes like all couples do. But she doesn't talk to me like one of our suspects."
"Like me. A suspect."
"That's correct." Amanda said as she pulled at her shirt a little, giving away just a little bit of cleavage. "Where were we... Ah, the date."
"That's right. Our hypothetical date. But… if you're gay, why would you date me?"
"I never said I was gay." The blonde shrugged.
"Aha, you're one of those."
"One of those?"
"You'll spread your legs for anything and anyone."
On the other side of the one-way mirror, a muttered "motherfucker" left Olivia's lips.
"You don't like women very much, do you, Mark?"
"I love women."
"That's why you rape 'em?"
"It's what you want though, isn't it?"
An admission.
Without breaking eye contact, Amanda got up from her chair and moved it closer to him.
"You think women want that?"
Olivia watched with a hammering heart as Amanda sat back down, now only a couple of feet away from him.
"Of course they do. It's human nature."
"Explain it to me, Mark."
"Women, women like you, were brought into this world for one reason, and deep down you know that. And you're programmed to love it, even though you'd never admit it."
"Tell me what it is I secretly love."
"When a man overpowers you. When he holds you down. You're begging him to stop, but really you just want him to keep going."
Amanda was laser focused on the task at hand and successfully managed to hide how nauseous she really was.
"And how do you know? That they want you to keep going?"
"Like I said. You're programmed to love it. All of them were wet as fuck."
"Who was?" She said as she leaned forward, close enough that she knew he could smell her perfume.
"You know who."
"Tell me."
"Sarah, Catherine, Anne."
I did it. The rush of adrenaline was unmistakable. One of the many reasons why she got up in the morning and did what she did.
"Mark, honey, I'm sorry to break it to you, but you're wrong. And you know it. We found the lube in your apartment. The lab is testing it right now and I'm willing to bet my career that it'll be a perfect match to what we found on the women's bodies. And I'm also willing to bet that no woman has ever been wet for you."
"Shut your fucking mouth, bitch!"
She gave him a short-lived smile. There you are. No more hiding, Mark Miller.
"Feels bad, doesn't it? A female detective making sure you'll rot in a prison cell?"
Amanda studied his eyes for a few seconds, and then everything happened all at once.
One minute he had his hands on her neck, the other he was on the ground, groaning, bleeding from his nose and from a cut over his eyes.
When Amanda realized what had happened she was backed up against the wall, watching as chief Garland was holding Olivia's arms in a tight grip. "Captain! Out!"
There was blood on the brunette's clenched fist.
"Rollins, get a medic in here and then arrest this scum."
"Liv..."
"Do your job, detective."
She watched as Olivia stormed out and every single cell in her body wanted to run after her. She looked from the writhing body in the interrogation room to the chief standing in front of her.
"That's an order, Rollins."
So, she did her job.
But not a day would go by without her regretting following the chief's orders.
Two hours later her hands were shaking when she opened the door to their new apartment.
After a month of discussing neighborhoods, prices and styles they had finally agreed on their new home, a spacious but not too big apartment, close enough to the precinct and close enough to Noah's school.
While Olivia had seemed happy about the move, she mostly seemed tired. But who didn't get tired while lifting boxes, raising three kids and running an entire unit all at once?
It was normal to be tired all the time. Right?
She'd been calling Olivia nonstop since she left the squad room, without any luck.
She's probably just sleeping. She's tired. Again.
"Sienna?" Amanda looked at her nanny with worry.
"Amanda?"
"What are you doing here?"
"Liv called, said there was some kind of emergency at work?"
No, no, no.
"You talked to her? When you got here?"
"Yes, of course, briefly."
Amanda left a confused looking Sienna in the living room as she ran down the hall and into their bedroom.
She was running on instinct and immediately turned to the big closet with the sliding doors they had installed just a couple of weeks ago. She opened it, looked at the top shelf and felt her stomach drop.
The safe. With Olivia's gun. Empty.
"No... No."
When she turned around, she noticed something else. A note on the bed.
Amanda picked it up and read the simple words through a cloud of tears.
"I'm sorry. I love you."
A/N: ...