"I am so sorry." Amanda began as she soon as she reached her.
Her hands were clasped together as though she were praying forgiveness as she pressed her fingers tight to her quivering lips. Her wide gaze read fear and loneliness like the open pages of a book, and Olivia wanted to lift her hand and turn back to the beginning, to find the answers that Amanda couldn't give her.
She quietly pulled up a chair from the opposite desk and straddled the back of it, contemplating exactly how to put her words. After everything that had happened between them - the fights, the insults, the begrudging partnership - she wasn't sure how to proceed.
Amanda bit her lower lip as Olivia shifted close to her, and she could sense the distrust, the discomfort.
"Please tell me you didn't get suspended again." Amanda whispered, interrupting the uncomfortable silence with a rough laugh, the one Olivia was beginning to understand as a false front for strength.
"No." Olivia murmured, meeting her gaze. "We're in the clear."
"Really?" Amanda asked in disbelief, her gaze charting across the room towards Cragen's office. "God...I thought for sure I was toast."
She sat back in the chair, exhaling a long breath of relief. It would last long.
"Amanda, look…" Olivia murmured. "Things got off to a rough start tonight, and I realize that if they hadn't...we might be in a different situation right now."
"What do you mean?" Amanda asked, slowly, glancing back over at her with a guarded expression.
"The coffee."
"Liv, I know. I shouldn't have gotten out of the car." Amanda began to protest. "I know-"
"No, I mean before." Olivia gently stopped her. "The one you bought me when I came back to work. I should've accepted it. You were just trying to be nice to me, and be a good co-worker. I screwed that up, and I'm sorry."
She watched Amanda's expression shift from defensive to shocked, and she seemed to be flabbergasted by the apology.
Maybe it wouldn't be so shocking if you didn't act like a bitch. Olivia thought, sarcastically.
"Okay…." Amanda said, slowly, at last. "Apology accepted…"
Silence fell between them again, and Olivia could sense the discomfort in Amanda's body language. After what she'd been through, Olivia could only imagine the thoughts running through her mind, how she must still be reeling. She'd promised to keep an eye on the younger detective, and though she'd never had a problem connecting with another female survivor before, she felt completely out of her depth simply looking at Amanda.
She's already compartmentalizing. Pretending it doesn't hurt. Olivia thought as she watched Amanda stare vacantly down at her laptop, absentmindedly tapping the spacebar with her thumb.
Where her mind was would've been anyone's guess, but Olivia had been there, watching her crumble. If she wasn't careful, it'd happen again, and again, again.
"Look…" Olivia murmured at last, "I know you said you're fine-"
"I am." Amanda cut her off, her thumb tapping quicker against the keyboard.
"Are you?" Olivia asserted, reaching across the desk to take her wrist.
The tapping of the key came to an abrupt halt as Olivia pulled her hand closer. She could feel her flesh was chilled, a tremble vibrating through each finger before Amanda retracted her hand, sharply. She clutched her hand in front of her, wringing them slowly.
"Yes." She repeated in a whisper, but her gaze was glassy, her mouth taut against a quiver.
Olivia sighed, tilting her head with a disbelieving stare.
Amanda's attitude and self isolating behavior only made her more certain that something terrible had happened to her in Atlanta, and that it had only been a matter of time before it affected her job performance, but she realized that trying to get Amanda to disclose to her wouldn't be so easy of a case to crack. Her typical understanding, compassionate approach wasn't going to work in this situation. Amanda was a sex crimes detective just like she was, and she knew all the tricks. She needed a different tactic.
"Okay." Olivia sighed at last, rising from the chair. "You're fine. Completely fine."
She pushed the chair back over to its original desk, watching Amanda blink quickly in shock out of the corner of her eye.
Turning back towards her, Olivia folded her arms and gazed down at her surprised, uncertain expression.
"But this…." Olivia motioned between them. "This is a partnership now. I don't know if you know how that works, but you have to trust each other. I stuck up for you in there, Amanda, but I can't continue to take responsibility for your actions."
Amanda's trembling lower lip tightened, and she glanced away, her fingers clenching around each other.
"I'm not asking you to." She whispered, huskily.
"Then, please…" Olivia replied, motioning towards Cragen's office. "Go explain to him what happened tonight. Word for word."
Amanda's shoulders tightened, her chin dipping, and Olivia could see the tears rising. She felt the smallest burn of regret in her chest, but she ignored it. She'd tried to be kind, but it seemed that Amanda only responded to her when she was pushed to her limits.
"I'll help you." Olivia offered, briskly, rounding the desk and taking her arm. "Let's go. If you're so certain you're fine."
It was one last, tiny prod, and the emotion rippled through Amanda's whole body like a line of dominos falling one after the other.
"I can't!" She burst out, flinging a watery, desperate gaze up at Olivia as she yanked her arm away.
"Then you're not fine." Olivia insisted, dropping down in front of her, and taking her hands again. "Amanda, I know this is hard, but you have to seek help before this blows up in your face again."
Amanda moaned quietly, her shoulders and head hunched, her fine, blonde hair tumbling over her flushed cheeks and watery eyes. Her hands were taut against Olivia's hold, her whole body rigid against Olivia's attempt to crack the wall she'd built around herself. She wasn't even going to let the tears fall.
Several stiff, silent seconds passed before Amanda extricated her fingers, roughly, and rubbed her hands over her face. She turned her chair back towards the desk and clasped her palms over her forehead. She stared at the desktop reticently, and Olivia remained beside her for a few more moments before she rose with a sigh.
It was enough for tonight. She didn't want to be responsible for anything more than an honest one-on-one.
"Okay." She relented in a low murmur. "But you have my number. Anytime you want to talk, pick up the phone."
Amanda didn't answer, didn't move, hardly even breathed, and Olivia hesitated for only a moment before she turned away from her. Grabbing her jacket from the chair, she pulled it only her arms, and tucked her cell into her pocket. Still, Amanda did not reply.
Olivia almost hated to leave her sitting there, distraught and helpless, but until she accepted that she needed help it was going to be useless to try to force her to talk. With a soft sigh and shake of her head, Olivia strode towards the elevator
As she hit the ground floor, her head was full of distracted thoughts. The night had begun so differently than it had ended, and she was unsure what to make of her and Amanda's strange, evolving relationship.
She hailed a cab and focused on what she knew for certain. She needed a damn drink.
xxxxxxx
Clemenza's was a small Italian restaurant and bar two blocks from the precinct that Olivia had discovered some time after her and Elliot's relationship had begun to crumble. So often, she'd expected to spend her nights with him or waiting to see him, and after the turmoil had truly begun, those nights became fewer and far between. She'd often found herself walking after she clocked off, sometimes at odd hours, but Clemenza's was always open and always inviting. She'd end up inside, sharing laughs with the bartender, nursing a glass of wine until with a curse she'd realize the sun had risen.
The familiar view of the brink facade, the dated fake foliage, and the neon red, cursive header brought a rush of relief to her chest, and she quickened her pace until she reached the front door. It seemed strange that she was arriving here with Amanda on her mind rather than Elliot, a dilemma that she tried quickly to ignore as soon as she realized it.
She began to shrug off her coat as she reached the bar, a smile touching her lips as she saw Lorenzo, her favorite bartender behind the counter.
"Livvy!" He greeted her with a smile, "How are you, darling?"
"Oh, you know…" Olivia trailed off as she slid on to the bar stool, finding it hard to come up with the polite lie that everything was perfect and good in her world.
Damn social etiquette and the expectation of happiness from every stranger on the street. She wasn't fine, and Lorenzo was her bartender. He'd no doubt heard much worse than what she was feeling. At least, that's what she told herself as she tossed him a grim expression to compliment her complaint.
"It's been a hell of a night."
"Not the finest for New York's Finest, no?" He replied, sympathetically. "What can I get you to lift your spirits?"
Bless this man. Olivia thought, smiling once more.
"Just a glass of wine. Red, please."
"Coming right up." Lorenzo assured her as he opened her tab and hurried off to prepare her drink.
Olivia heaved a sigh of relief as the the smallest bit of tension began to release from her shoulders. By habit she reached into her pocket to palm Elliot's shield as she contemplated the events of the evening.
She'd always sworn to herself that she would try to help every survivor that she came into contact with, no matter who they were or what the circumstance was, but on a personal level, Amanda didn't quite fit in to her crusader-like intentions. It was difficult even attempting to help her after the conflict between them, the tension, the attraction that she'd been trying to ignore since day one.
Some days - especially today- she just wanted Elliot back, the way things used to be. Before they'd known better, if they ever hadn't. Before they got in too deep. Before he'd had another kid and decided to demote her back to the other woman…
It'd been complicated then, but at least she'd known where her feelings were and exactly what she wanted from her partner. With Amanda, nothing was certain. Fate had caught them up together in a tornado of emotions and had yet to deposit them on safe ground.
"Here you go." Lorenzo interrupted her train of thought as he pushed the glass across to her before leaning on the counter. "Anything else I can get you? I hate to see you so blue, you know?"
Olivia scoffed a laugh as she accepted the drink, and immediately took the first satisfying sip.
"Have you ever met a woman so frustrating and annoying, and yet you can't get away from her, even if you wanted to?" Olivia questioned aloud impulsively.
You haven't had that much to drink yet. She chided herself as soon as the words had left her lips. Yes, Lorenzo was her bartender, but there were things she kept to herself and only herself.
Instead of judging her, however, Lorenzo burst into laughter.
"I am married, aren't I?" He asked, spreading his hands.
A flush washed over Olivia's cheeks, and she almost choked on her second sip of wine.
"Not like that." She quickly corrected him. "I meant a co-worker."
Lorenzo laughed and began to reply when something, or rather someone, caught his gaze over Olivia's shoulder.
"Maybe her?" He joked, motioning towards the entrance of the restaurant as Olivia twisted sharply in her seat.
She sputtered as her eyes landed on Amanda. She'd just stepped inside, and she stood hesitantly across the room from Olivia's position at the bar. Her eyes were piercingly blue against bloodshot white and puffy lids, glassy like the standing water on a placid lake. Their gazes met and her mouth twisted in a trembling line.
You got me. Her expression read as she shrugged a slow, silent surrender. I give up.
Olivia stared back at her, shocked at her presence for a long moment before she managed to pull her composure together. She motioned for her to come over, and Amanda's chin ducked, hiding her flushed, tear-streaked appearance. She quickly crossed the room and slid onto the stool next to her, her hands balled into fists on the counter.
"Can I get you anything, miss?" Lorenzo asked hesitantly.
Amanda stared at the bar for a moment, her hand clenched and white knuckled in front of her.
"Whiskey." She finally whispered roughly.
Olivia almost protested as she wondered over Amanda's state of mind and how wise it would be to allow her to self medicate before reminding herself she hadn't exactly made herself an ally in Amanda's eyes. She had no place to tell her what to do, and she certainly hadn't lead by example thus far either.
"Water too, please, Lorenzo." She urged him, quietly, deciding she would do what she could to keep Amanda from spiraling.
"Right away, miss."
He turned back towards the bar, leaving them alone in silence.
"Cragen suggested I might find you here." Amanda
whispered, lifting one hand to swipe away the lingering tears. "I just started thinking… You had the balls to tell me about Elliot, and you do deserve an explanation after what I put you through tonight."
"Amand-"
"Don't say I didn't do anything wrong." Amanda cut her off, quickly, casting her narrowed, watery gaze. "I know I fucked up."
Olivia sighed, softly, gazing down at her glass as she tried to think of how to phrase her next few words. She'd explained Elliot's departure to Amanda, but there were other things that were almost more painful that she didn't want to delve into. What Amanda needed right now, however, was safety, an assurance that she wasn't telling the wrong person her secrets.
"I've lived with PTSD, Amanda." Olivia murmured at last. "I know what it does to your head."
Amanda's fingers tightened around her whiskey glass, her lids fluttering shut
"Yeah, well…" She whispered huskily at last, her voice trembling. "I've never been diagnosed with PTSD, and maybe I wasn't even raped."
Her bitter words jolted Olivia's senses, and head snapped quickly in Amanda's direction. It was the first time that Amanda had directly referenced the trauma she'd gone through, but what concerned Olivia more was her denial of it.
"Amanda, I don't think…"
"You've heard of buyer's remorse." Amanda interrupted her, her voice stiffening. "I mean that term flies around rape accusations and reports in the media and sex crimes units… At least where I come from. If it's not a stranger, if it's not overtly violent, if it starts out consensual…."
Olivia listened to her train of thought, knowing exactly where it was headed. Of course, a woman like Amanda didn't want to be a victim. She was strong, opinionated, and independent with enough sass for two or three people combined. She didn't fit the stereotypical profile of a victim that society had adopted, but Olivia knew better. If Amanda wasn't so in her own head she might've realized the same thing.
"Well, I think we've worked together long enough for you to know that I don't believe that line of bull." Olivia finally returned. "Whatever happened to you was not your fault."
"Whatever you say." Amanda replied with a shrug.
Lorenzo returned with her drink, cutting off any reply that Olivia might've made, and Amanda accepted the drink with far too much hunger in her eyes. She took a long, deep drink, her eyes closed as she downed half the glass.
"You might want to make that two." She whispered.
"You want me to take her keys, Liv?" Lorenzo asked, his brow furrowing.
"Hey, asshole." Amanda snapped, her watery gaze flaring with indignance as she waved a hand at him. "What're you asking her for? Hello, grown adult here. I can take care of myself."
"Amanda…" Olivia cut in, trying to keep a soothing tone as Lorenzo's brows rose, and he held up his hands, defensively. "We're just worried about you."
"God…" Amanda whispered, pressing the cold glass to her forehead as her shoulders slumped. "I didn't mean for this to-... I just….I don't know…"
"It's okay. Take it easy." Olivia suggested, hesitantly reaching over to rub her shoulder.
Glancing over at Lorenzo, she told him, "She's fine. We just need a minute."
The bartender nodded, and quietly left them alone. He was soon engaged with another customer, and Olivia turned back towards Amanda who was nursing her whiskey in hasty sips.
"So…." Amanda whispered rigidly, staring at her glass as she swirled the ice. "What do you wanna know? Who it was? How it happened? How messed up I was afterwards…"
"No…" Olivia murmured, letting her fingers slip from Amanda's stiff shoulder. "I just want to know I can trust you in the field. Your state of mind is important enough as a civilian, but as a cop...we have even more responsibility."
"Don't you think I know that?" Amanda demanded, sharply, stabbing a finger at the counter "I wake up every day telling myself to keep it together, and I've done a damn good job so far. Tonight…. It was one fuck up."
"And it could've cost you a hell of a lot more than a bloody nose." Olivia pointed out as she leaned closer to her. "It could've cost us all-"
"Oh, thanks, Liv." Amanda snapped, cynically, turning on the bar stool to face her with snarling vehemence. "I'm glad to know I haven't graduated beyond a poor replacement for Elliot in your eyes!"
"Elliot has nothing to do with this." Olivia immediately returned as indignation and denial flooded her veins in rapid fire response.
She'd thought enough about Elliot tonight for both of them, and she didn't need Amanda digging any further inside that wound.
"No?" Amanda demanded, setting her glass down hard enough to slosh the remaining liquid up against the rim. "Semper Fi, right? Forever? I am never going to be good enough for you, no matter what I do. It doesn't matter that I let a man have my body to save somebody else's ass. It doesn't matter that no believed me. You can play saint all you want, but at the end of the day all you care about it Elliot."
"That is not true." Olivia insisted, her teeth clenched against every urge to retaliate.
She was trying her hardest to offer Amanda support, to be the partner that Cragen expected her to be, to be the advocate that she expected herself to be; but damn Amanda and her impulsive conclusions. No matter how much Olivia knew that her own behavior was the foundation of Amanda's opinion at the moment, she wanted to deny it and prove in some way that it was absolutely false if only for her conscience's sake.
"You know that's not true." Olivia repeated as Amanda stared at her with a red-rimmed expression of mistrust.
"How?" Amanda whispered, turning on the barstool until the were face to face, their knees pressed together, bone against sharp bone.
"How what?" Olivia whispered, her heart slamming up against her ribs with suppressed frustration and their sudden, intimate proximity.
"How do I know that it's not true?" Amanda clarified in a whisper, her brow furrowing with the slightest hint at fear rather than anger.
Olivia stared back at her for a long moment, trying to decipher her expression, the tremble in her soft lips, the tears that shimmered in her blue eyes like a cloudy sky at dawn.
What are you thinking? Olivia wondered silently. What do you want me to say? How do you want me to say it? What words will make you unravel?
She'd thought she needed a different tactic, and maybe she had; but staring into Amanda's eyes, she saw the vulnerability that she hadn't seen before. She'd crashed through the surface to the childlike desire for approval and acceptance. With her knuckles white around the barstool, shoulders taut and trembling, Amanda was ready to fall, and Olivia was suddenly and inexplicably convinced that she wanted her to catch her.
Olivia moved without thinking, abandoning every misguided instinct she'd formed in regards to Amanda. She slid down from the stool, and took Amanda's shoulders, felt her tremble in her hands.
"Come here." She whispered, pulling Amanda into her arms.
She felt Amanda stiffen in surprise, and her own heart raced in her chest. She'd offered physical comfort to hundreds of survivors, at crime scenes, in the backs of cruisers, in front of a lineup behind a two way mirror, but never like this. A few short hours ago they'd barely been able to stand each others presence, and now her instinct was screaming at her hug the younger woman like a friend.
For a silent, excruciating moment, Amanda seemed not to know what to do or how to respond, and Olivia wondered if she had made a mistake. She had nearly retracted her arms when Amanda's suddenly crumbled. Like a baby to her mother's milk, she sank into Olivia's chest. Her fingers clenched around the fabric of Olivia's shirt at her waist, the emotion welling up inside of her. Her shoulders drew tight, and Olivia could hear her breathing raggedly, but she bore it silently, either too afraid or too stubborn to break completely.
Olivia wondered quietly how many nights Amanda had endured the pain to be so strong as to deny the tears that so desperately wanted to fall. She wondered how long it had been since someone touched her like this. She wouldn't ask her. Instead, she just held her, calculating the soft weight of her in her arms. She haltingly stroked her back, all too viscerally aware of the feeling of Amanda against her chest winding itself into her memory. Each detail was too vivid and sharp to ever fade.
Finally, Amanda's fingers loosened from her waist. She straightened slowly, her head ducked to hide the stray tears that had managed to escape her lids. Olivia let her go, burying the hesitance to release her from the safe space of her arms.
Amanda roughly laughed, dashing at the tears with a shrug, "I guess I'm a lightweight tonight."
Despite her joking tone, Olivia didn't return the laugh. She inspected her expression critically, but much to her dismay the walls had gone back up.
"You're not going to tell me what happened, are you?" She asked, softly, her hands hovering at Amanda's arm.
The smile disintegrated from Amanda's lips, and she barely met her eyes as she shrugged once more in an effort at nonchalance.
"It was a long time ago… Not worth pursuing…" She finally replied, her voice husky.
She grabbed her drink from the counter, and tossed back the remaining liquid. In the overhead lights of the bar, Olivia could see the tear clinging her lashes and the way she roughly swallowed the alcohol and the emotion.
Setting the glass down, she raised her hand to call Lorenzo back over.
"Amanda, hold on." Olivia intervened. "You should drink some water."
"Don't worry you about me, Liv." Amanda suggested as she pulled out her wallet. "I'm done. No need to babysit me…Right?"
Olivia released a low sigh through clenched teeth, shaking her head as she tried to come up with a response to her own bitter words being thrown in her face.
"I shouldn't have said that." She admitted, quietly. "I shouldn't have said a lot of things. You're a good cop, Amanda."
Amanda scoffed, sliding down from the barstool.
"Please don't flatter me."
"Fine." Olivia insisted, standing with her and catching her arm. "No flatteries. Just honesty."
Amanda paused, glancing down at Olivia's hand touching her. A visible trembled washed over her, and her eyes darted away. Her jaw worked, and she reached up to quickly dash away an escaping tear.
"What do you want from me?" She asked at last, finally looking Olivia in the eye.
The desperation in her ocean eyes seized Olivia with an unflinching grip all over again, and in the back of her mind, she wondered if this was what she had been avoiding. Ever since Amanda had arrived, she had refused to look too closely, but now that she had, she could not remove her gaze.
"I…" She began in a whisper, her voice catching.
She'd glanced downwards, watched her own fingers tighten around Amanda's soft flesh. She'd promised honesty to Amanda, and self preservation to herself. Suddenly, it seemed that the two were not mutually compatible.
"I don't know for sure." She replied, quietly, forcing herself to meet Amanda's gaze once more. "For tonight, at least let me make sure you get home safe. I'm going to call a cab, and make sure you get in it."
Amanda's brow furrowed, and for a split second Olivia thought she might protest.
"Okay, yeah." Amanda replied at last with a shrug, her tone as nonchalant as though they were discussing dinner plans. "Whatever gets me out of here. This wallpaper is making me cringe."
Turning towards the exit, she strode off, her head lowered, shoulders squared. Olivia watched her, frozen for a moment at her cavalier attitude. Like a switch, she turned off the part of herself that was traumatized and vulnerable, and it shocked her how familiar it was. She'd done the same so often, and now she expected Amanda to unfold herself to her. It was almost laughable.
Sinking her hand into her pocket, Olivia clutched Elliot's badge once more. Then, she pushed herself off the stool and followed Amanda into the night.