A/N: I had to mess with the canonical timeline a little to make this story work. It takes place early S17, but assumes that Rollins hasn't announced her pregnancy with Jesse yet, and (obv) Tuckson doesn't exist in this case.

This fic was a Birthday request by a very good friend! I, of course, finished it super late bc I am 100% that bitch. However, I hope you still enjoy it, darling. Happiest of Cursed Birthdays! We can celebrate my Cursed Birthday a month from now. 😬

Rating: MA, NSFW

Spoilers: Spring Awakening, Devil's Dissections, Criminal Pathology

Trigger/content warnings: Alcohol, F/F sex (oral, fingers) reference to pregnancy

Amanda and the Terrible, Horrible,

No Good, Very Bad Birthday

Fin was stirring a mug of crappy precinct coffee and daydreaming sleepily of jelly donuts when Rollins sidled up next to him conspiratorially.

"Hey partner," she murmured, "got a question for you."

"Shoot."

"When is Liv's birthday?"

Fin startled so hard that he spilled coffee out of the mug he had just picked up. "Oh! Whoa! No no - we don't talk about the 'B-word' 'round here!"

Amanda eyed him in surprise as she stepped gingerly away from the spill. The Sergeant ignored the mess and took the blonde by the elbow, tugging her around the nearest corner as he scanned the office for the Lieutenant in question.

"Nobody knows when her birthday is," he whispered.

"Nobody?"

"Nah. You know how private she likes to keep things."

Amanda frowned. "Yeah, but - "

"Rollins. Listen - let it go. She hates her birthday," Fin stressed.

"What? Why?!"

He sighed, closing his eyes in impatience. "Best I can figure, her birthday has always just been a'issue, okay? Childhood stuff … her mom … birthdays over the years that blew up on her. So just let it go, Amanda. Trust me."

Amanda opened her mouth one more time, but then thought better of it. She turned back around the corner, only to find Olivia at the coffee station, hands on hips, surveying the spill Fin had left in his hurry.

"Everything ok, Amanda?" Liv asked when she saw the exposed look in the detective's eyes.

"Fine," she nodded. "I was just reminding Sergeant Tutuola to clean up the mess he made."

"Fin!" Liv called, "You did this?"

He came into view as Rollins escaped back to her desk. "Sorry, Lieu. I was just on my way back," he said, shooting an eyeroll in the blonde's direction.

.

.

It was cool in Liv's apartment when Amanda crept silently from the bedroom, where she'd left Olivia slumbering so that she could sneak out to the kitchen. Outside and down below, New York City moved in a muted, sluggish crawl in the late January snow.

On the counter sat the Lieutenant's purse, which Rollins eyed warily. She didn't like her idea, but she was desperate. The two women had been seeing each other since about the close of the Yates-Rudnick affair that brought down the M. E. The suggestion that Liv hated her birthday only made Amanda more stubborn about wanting to do something special.

Just one peek at her driver's license. The Southern blonde would worry about penance later.

The cold of the kitchen tile bit angrily into her warm, bare feet as she closed the distance to the purse. Flushed with goosebumps, a chill warbled through her, fingers closing over the zipper pull. Olivia's pocketbook was a basic black, rectangular classic leather number. She unzipped that too, flipping quickly through plastic cards. Amex, MasterCard, a few points reward cards - one for a kids' store for Noah, a Barns & Noble card - but no license. No SSN card or birth registration either.

Frowning, Rollins went backward and forward through the colored plastic cards twice more, convinced she must have missed it.

"It's not in there."

"JEEZ-us Christ!" Amanda hissed, luckily remembering to drop her voice after the initial syllable, despite jumping out of her skin. She jammed the wallet back into the purse and spun to find Olivia standing near the top of the hall, arms crossed over her chest. "What do you think I was lookin' for?" she asked breathlessly, her heart pounding.

"Anything with my date of birth on it."

She took only a moment to consider her options, then sighed heavily and put her hands on her hips. "Alright - you got me. You're right, I was. I want to know when your birthday is, Babe."

"No."

Amanda's mouth dropped open at the firm but forceful shutdown. "What is with you and your birthday? It's just one day, once a year. It can't be that bad."

Liv exhaled a scoff. "The fact that you would even say that tells me you've never had a truly bad birthday in your life." She brushed past the blonde, adjusted her wallet and then zipped her purse closed.

"Every kid has had a shitty birthday," Amanda protested. "Luckily, we get a fresh new one every year. Tell me what day, and let me fix yours."

"I said no, Amanda."

Changing tactics, she reached out an arm to curl around the older brunette's waist and tugged her in close. "I'm willing to make an offer for information," she murmured, smiling. "What can I do for you, to drag it out of you? Hmm?"

"Nothing! Listen, Amanda - I mean it. There's no fixing this. My birthday is cursed!" Olivia insisted, her eyes dark with melancholy. "I'm not talking about some year where I never got the toy I wanted, okay? I am talking every birthday. Every year."

There was a pause that filled up with the hum of the refrigerator as Rollins searched Liv's face. "All of them?"

"All of them," Liv confirmed.

"Since you were born?" Amanda raised an eyebrow in disbelief.

"Every year that I can remember."

As incredulous as she was, she could tell that the brunette wasn't just lying about it to keep her from getting her a cake or gift. There was truly something anxious and unsettled in the SVU Lieutenant's body language.

"Okay," Amanda finally said.

"Okay?"

"Yeah. Let's go back to bed," the blonde nodded, nudging her in the direction of the bedroom.

"Okay." Liv exhaled a relieved breath, leading the way.

Going to have to figure out another plan, Rollins thought as she followed after, her mind already turning.

.

.

Another day, another plan, another corner Amanda found herself hiding around. This time it was beside the lobby to Human Resources, where she was waiting for the newbie who'd been hired to man the lobby desk to finish with the person he was speaking to. She had decided that he was her next best option because he was green, eager to fit in, and young enough to still be red-blooded.

Rollins undid an extra three buttons on her blouse, then strode up to the counter. Crossing her arms beneath her breasts, she leaned against the desk and smiled at the baby-faced blonde.

"Afternoon, Detective Rollins."

"Call me Amanda, Derek," she told him, watching as his gaze helplessly grazed her cleavage as he tried to look anywhere but at her.

"Can I help you with anything, Det - Amanda?" he grinned, clammy palms on the burnished countertop.

"Actually - " she bit her bottom lip and leaned over until she was just inches from him, then murmured furtively, "I need a big favor."

"What kind of favor?" he asked, swallowing a bit heavily.

"See … I - I dunno. It's really important but," she paused thoughtfully and ran a finger between her breasts, which Derek followed, "I just wouldn't want you to get in trouble."

"Hey. I can keep things to myself," he boasted quietly. "I'm sure someone like you wouldn't ask me to do anything that bad. I want to help."

"Are you sure?" Amanda pressed, taking the hand from her chest and pressing it over his own where it rested on the countertop. "You would really be doing a good thing, not just for me but for Lieutenant Benson, too."

There it was: the look she was hoping for that rolled up in his eyes like jackpot on vegas slots. Olivia Benson was saint, savior, survivor, legend. Nobody left the Academy without knowing who she was, and new hires did anything at the sound of her name with admiration that was nearly Pavlovian.

"Anything," he nodded. "I won't breathe a word."

"You see, we're tryin' to plan a surprise party for her birthday, but she's playin' shy about her age. I'm in charge of the cake, and I want to be sure I get the right numbers on there … so I was wondering if you could just take a really fast peek at her jacket and tell me whether or not she's lyin' about the year she was born."

The pale blonde blanched a bit, in spite of his eagerness. "Her - her personnel file? Are you sure? I mean that's pretty serious for just a cake."

Rollins let him consider it for a moment, then doubled down: "I mean, I guess you're probably right. Just that I really don't want to be the one to disappoint her's all." She pouted and then hung her head.

Above her, Derek took an anxious glance around the lobby to find it empty. At last he whispered. "Alright. Don't move from where you are! Gimme a minute!" He turned on his heel and hurried down to and inside the door to the records room.

Amanda took a deep breath and bounced excitedly on the balls of her little feet. He returned in less than two minutes, breathless from his own nerves. Leaning in until he nearly could've whispered pillow talk in Rollins' ear, he told her:

"February seventh, 1968."

The seventh of February. That gave her a little better than two weeks to put together something monumental enough to scourge 47 previous birthdays.

"So, does this mean I get an invite to the party?" Derek asked shyly, blushing a little as he took another glance at her breasts.

She patted his hand kindly and swallowed the giggle that bubbled up. "I'll see what I can do," she grinned.

.

.

Fin shook his head at his partner, eyeing her severely as he tipped up his beer for a long pull. "You can count me outta this one," he told her. "You might be ready for early retirement, but not me."

"C'mon, Fin!" Amanda chuckled.

"Don't 'c'mon' me nothin'! Look at you, grinnin' like you did some great thing; she's gonna hang you from the highest branch, and I don't want any part of it."

She sighed. "Fine - you don't have to help do anything, but you can help me brainstorm, right? She's had 47 crappy birthdays … what would you want, if it was you?"

Her mentor shrugged his shoulders. "I guess, if I hated birthdays that bad, the perfect one would be … a day that doesn't seem like a birthday."

The blonde blinked for a long moment, turning his words over in her mind. Amanda knew he wasn't wrong about Olivia and her privacy, so a party definitely wasn't in the cards. She didn't see the need to involve a lot of people; she just had to discern what would make a perfect day for Liv, and execute the plan flawlessly.

"I think you just nailed it, partner," Rollins grinned.

.

.

The seventh of February dawned crisp and clear. Outside, it was chilly, the bustle of the city a faraway murmur that barely reached the warm, homey cocoon that was Olivia's apartment. As she roused to the surface of consciousness, Liv was aware of the smell of coffee and breakfast.

She rolled over to find Amanda, already awake in the bed, with Noah tucked between them. He was watching the iPad, quietly absorbed in a kids' movie.

"Morning, sleepyhead," Amanda smiled.

Liv stretched, enjoying the scene of them all together in the quiet. "Do I smell coffee?"

The blonde tickled the little boy lightly. "Should we show Mama what we made her for breakfast?" she asked him.

Liv made smalltalk with her son while Rollins disappeared to the kitchen, only to return with a tray overflowing with a full breakfast. There was also a card, made out of construction paper and covered in Noah's familiar crayon scribbles. Inside, Amanda had helped him trace the letters to write Happy Birthday, Momma.

Olivia's eyes were shiny with surprised tears when she looked over at the younger woman in her bed. "How did you find out?" she asked, laughing through a sniffle.

"I'm sworn to secrecy," Amanda winked.

Then the older woman took a deep breath and sighed. "Okay, so, what did you plan? Out with it."

"Nothing."

"Come on, 'Manda. I'm not mad, I just want to know what to expect," Liv pushed.

"I didn't plan anything," the blonde shook her head. "I heard what you told me."

Olivia side-eyed her girlfriend skeptically.

It was a long time before they ventured out of the bed - first sharing breakfast, then playing with Noah until he was squealing and breathless and giggling. Amanda had suggested they take him on a walk, so she carried him to get him dressed.

Liv still didn't completely believe, of course, that Amanda didn't have something hidden up her sleeve for the day. She set her teeth against the seeping anxiety of impending doom as she got her clothes on, trying to guess what might lay ahead.

But the walk is just a walk, with nobody waiting at the end of it to spring from the shadows. At a bodega along the way, Amanda buys her a bouquet of pink peonies.

"Happy Birthday," she smiles softly.

They head back toward Liv's, the brunette's head spinning that the day could be going so calmly, her anxiety tamped down except for the tiny voice in the back of her head. That voice knew all the ghosts of birthdays past, and was ready to sound the alarm at slightest hint of surprise.

"I was thinking we could order in for supper," Rollins said on the way up in the elevator. "Whatever you like. We'll put on your favorite old movies and eat until we have to undo our pants."

Olivia chuckled.

"And once this rugrat is asleep," Amanda continued, hoisting Noah up onto her hip, "I'll take your pants the rest of the way off - if you want."

The smell of Italian filled the apartment, the clink of wine stems filled with Liv's favorite red, along with laughter and kisses sneaked between messy mouthfuls. Noah played quietly with his toys while his moms watched romantic Hepburn and Tracy comedies tangled on the couch.

When the little boy finally dozed off in a heap on the rug among the toys strewn from one end to the other, Amanda retrieved him and offered him to Olivia for bedtime snuggles. Soon after, he was sound asleep without incident.

"Hey - c'mere, Babe," Rollins called from the kitchen after Noah was settled away.

Here we go, Liv thought, the surprise has arrived.

She stood up and turned to face the kitchen bar to see Amanda at the counter with a cake. Nothing outrageous - just a strawberry cake with pink frosting, and a few candles.

"Come make a wish," Amanda grinned.

Olivia walked slowly to the counter, thinking about the birthday they'd had together. Sleeping in, playing with Noah. Breakfast. Spending time together talking, laughing. Flowers. Good food, good wine, her favorite movies. She also thought ahead to making love to the stubborn, beautiful blonde that had somehow done both what she had asked her not to do, and also given her exactly what she wanted.

Smiling in return, Liv took a breath and closed her eyes to blow out the candles.

I wish the rest of my birthdays could be just like this one.

Before she opened her eyes, she felt cool frosting dab onto the end of her nose, followed by a giggle from Amanda. Olivia rolled her eyes, grabbing for her hand as she locked eyes with the blonde and wrapped her mouth around the frosted fingertip, sucking it clean.

"Cut me some of this cake," Liv murmured, "so I can take you to bed."

They left the TV on and the movies running, the clipped sounds of Katherine Hepburn's gravelly voice drifting in incoherent fragments towards the dusky bedroom.

Intoxicated by the calm, pure joy of the day, Olivia found herself already moaning softly by the time their naked bodies entwined in the soft sheets.

"Tell me what you want," Amanda breathed softly.

"To worship you," the brunette answered, her lips dragging reverent kisses down the column of Amanda's neck and over her shoulder.

"Mm, but it's your birthday."

"That's right," Liv chuckled, "that means I decide."

Rollins surrendered her protests as the kisses moved on to her chest, Liv's hands teasing and caressing the pale skin of her breasts. The tip of her tongue circled steadily around a nipple until it pebbled, shiny with saliva that the brunette then swirled with her fingertip until Amanda was arching against her. Desire flooded to the valley between her thighs, she whimpered and nibbled on her bottom lip as Olivia repeated the torture on the opposite breast.

When the kisses began travelling further Southward, Amanda pushed to her elbows. "Wait wait," she panted breathlessly, "come up here. Let's do it at the same time."

Liv chuckled at the blonde's impatience, but acquiesced, turning around and moving over her carefully.

"Fuck, look how wet you are," she praised, trailing two fingers through Liv's slick mess. She drew the moisture up, teasing the tip of her finger into her ass.

The older woman hissed with pleasure, bucking forward. "I'm not the only one," Liv smirked, spreading Amanda open so she could wet her own fingers as well. "Such a good girl." She rubbed her fingers against the swollen cleft, a growl escaping her throat.

Each woman was an exercise in opposites: Amanda could never wait, forever overwhelmed by her need to fill Olivia with fingers and tongue. Olivia preferred to tease, to slowly dip fingers into the blonde's wetness and gaze at the mess it left on them, preferred to nip and kiss Amanda's spread thighs, the rise of her mons.

"Mmff!" Amanda hummed happily as her mouth pulled in Liv's throbbing clit, stroking and sucking it firmly.

"God, you're so good at that," Liv groaned, forcing herself to keep her focus even as she could feel herself pulsing beneath her girlfriend's tongue.

She slowly pushed her fingers deep inside, heart racing at the tight, smooth warm pull of her pussy. Her thrusts were just as slow at first, wanting to make it hard for Rollins to keep her mouth going simultaneously.

"Ahh! God!" Amanda gasped, breaking from Liv's clit at last. "Babe, you're gonna kill me like that," she pouted.

Satisfied, Olivia laughed and sped up her fingers then dipped her head to suck her swollen pink clit. Amanda's thighs shook with the intensity of her pleasure as she became even more determined to get Liv off blonde brought up a hand and smacked one cheek, hard, then the other. She heard Liv grunt and then pant with the rush of desire it created.

Amanda followed it by curving two long fingers deep into her dripping pussy before she returned her mouth to the heated knot of aching nerves above Liv's entrance. In retaliation, Olivia sucked in a finger on the hand that wasn't already knuckle-deep in the blonde's cunt, then worked it into her ass.

"Ohh, fuuckk," she keened, knowing the battle was lost. "Liv, I'm going to … I'm unh - "

The happy birthday girl was watching the clench and throb of Amanda's body eagerly. With a death grip on the pillows under her head, she trembled as she came, her wetness everywhere just like Liv loved - her inner thighs, dripping down to her ass, onto the bed.

She hardly caught her breath before she was back at task, pulling Olivia over the edge with her.

"Happy Birthday," Rollins panted as they curled up together, pulling the duvet over them. "I hope this one was finally the one you wanted."

"It was everything," Liv smiled. "And no surprises, which is even better."

"Well," Amanda said slowly, "I did hang onto one surprise for you … "

Olivia froze, her pulse stuttering immediately. "You did?"

Nodding, she took one of Liv's hands and pulled it down to rest on her lower belly. She met her eyes nervously. "I'm pregnant."

Olivia's eyes went wide in the dark, her hand immediately touching a bit more curiously. "You're - are you sure?"

Amanda chuckled. "Yeah, I'm sure - and before you ask, I want you to know, it's not Nick's."

Too awed to care much about that aspect of the news, Liv continued to softly rub the blonde's belly. When she did meet her gaze, she whispered, "The perfect birthday," and kissed Rollins' soft mouth.

"… And many more," the younger woman smiled, snuggling down into the bed with a yawn.

END