Merry Christmas :)
xxxxxxx
Olivia wanted to believe that it was duty that had driven her to the courthouse, a burning desire to see Justice fulfilled; but it wasn't duty. It was guilt; both she and Amanda damn well knew it. She had a conscience after all, though Olivia wondered if Rory Halstead could be convinced of that if he knew the truth of that night.
The young man sat rigidly a few rows in front of her, so obviously filled with discomfort and pain. His long hair was combed back, and his baggy, black clothing had been exchanged for a navy blue suit, but even at this distance as a simple bystander, Olivia could tell that it was an ill-fitting disguise. The trauma he carried with him would not be so easily dressed up and smoothed down. He may never know who she was or how she might've contributed to his suffering, but she was fully aware, perhaps more than she wanted to be.
Duty had driven here, but in the end it was guilt that had forced her up the steps of the courthouse. Seeing Amanda pacing the hall had only reinforced those gut wrenching feelings.
She knew what she owed to Rory, but what about Amanda?
She'd played that moment over and over again in her head, tracked her steps from the bar to the cab, from the cab to Amanda. She'd listened to Amanda's voice ring out in her head, proclaiming in utter desperation and vulnerability that she wanted to trust her, Olivia Benson, the woman who'd scorned her since day one. She'd felt a gravity then, a compelling force of nature, the inherent connection of their womanhood and their trauma. Although they'd never been completely honest with each other, they somehow understood each other beyond words, beyond the barriers that patriarchal institutions had thrown between them, beyond their own internalized misgivings that had so twisted their perceptions. For a moment, they'd simply been two women, sharing an understanding, instead of two cops engaged in a bitter struggle of disillusionment and misinterpretations; and for just that moment, Olivia had wanted to give in.
When she'd come up for air, however, reality had slapped her hard in the face. The regret had been instantaneous and instinctual. She'd made a mistake, the same one she'd just finished making, and Amanda could not seem to understand. Olivia wasn't sure what Amanda had expected to happen after the impulsive kiss, but it certainly could not be anything romantic or sexual, no matter how short-lived and desired.
What was left between them now was an awkward partnership that verged on divorce. She'd attempted to apologize to Amanda, but the younger detective had hardly been receptive - not that Olivia could blame her. Still, she could scarcely take the brooding silence and stilted exchanges. More than once Olivia had been tempted to go to Cragen and ask for a different partner. She'd played out entire conversations in her head with arguments ranging from "we've learned our lesson" to "Amaro or Fin can watch over her just as well as I can". Somehow, they'd both sounded utterly false even inside the confines of her own desperate mind. What lessons had they possibly learned and what type of watchman could the other detectives be when they knew so little? No, she and Amanda had dug themselves into a tight hole in which they were both suffocating, so close and yet so far from one another.
She'd barely managed to say why she was at the courthouse to begin with before Amanda had managed to escape, a look of horror and fear barely hiding beneath her unbothered facade.
Glancing back towards the doors of the courtroom, Olivia wondered whether Amanda would rejoin her at all. She knew that Amanda would not miss the indictment, and she half expected to see her hovering against the back wall, arms folded, mouth in that perpetual pout.
The thought of the other detective's lips forced a tremor down her spine and she exhaled shakily. She turned forward in her seat when she didn't see her partner avoiding her once more and tried to focus on other less conflicting thoughts.
Olivia tried to be patient, but the minutes dragged onwards, each one slower than the last. When the bailiff began to bring in the accused boys, Olivia glanced nervously towards the doors once more. Had she truly chased Amanda away from the indictment and the first step towards justice?
The judge was beginning to take the bench when she heard the doors open behind her. She turned quickly and her gaze caught Amanda's from across the room. The other woman appeared flushed and harried, and Olivia attempted to offer her another reassuring smile. Amanda's eyes quickly dropped to the floor and she slunk down the aisle as the docket was read. Slipping into the seat next to Olivia, Amanda hardly glanced her way, her small, pale hands clutched in front of her. The smell of the outdoors and cigarette smoke lingered on her and it reminded Olivia of that night. Only the whiskey was missing, that crucial component that had lifted the barriers between them and lowered their inhibitions.
Olivia cleared her throat and forced her eyes towards the front. This was Rory's moment. She'd come here to pay back what little she could. Her and Amanda's faltering communication had to be a second priority to the boy three rows in front of them.
Barba had entered charges of kidnapping, gang assault, and rape in the first degree, all class B felonies, but it hardly seemed enough for what had been done to Rory - not even the fact that the Hate Crime act ensured prison time. She could only hope that facing his tormentors in court would begin to heal Rory's wounds.
"Let me begin by saying that this is the type of case one wishes they'd never have to oversee." The judge began grimly. "I've reviewed the evidence the prosecution has brought forward and the arguments that the defense have presented and it is my ruling that there is more than enough probable cause to move to trial."
"Oh my god." Olivia whispered, grasping her pounding heart as relief washed over her, a blessed wave that released a portion of her guilt.
A murmur swept across the courtroom, and beside Rory, his mother cried out, turning to grab her son in a hug of victory.
"I'm formally indicting all three defendents: Garrett Ives, Evan Malone, and Steven LaMonte." The judge concluded. "One count of kidnapping in the second degree, one count of gang assault in the first degree, and one count of rape in first degree. The trial will commence next month. Until then, the defendants' original bail agreements will continue. Thank you."
Another round of whisperings took over the courtroom and Olivia glanced quickly over at Amanda; the other detective was staring at the front of the courtroom as though she couldn't quite believe the outcome.
"You did it." Olivia whispered, instinctively grabbing Amanda's knee with a reassuring squeeze.
Amanda glanced over at her, her brow furrowed, a sheen of tears glimmering in her blue eyes.
"Not yet." Amanda whispered with a harsh swallow. "There's still going to be a trial."
"I know that but-" Olivia began, but Amanda was standing quickly from the bench, dashing at a tear that had managed to escape her eye.
"Amanda, hold on." Olivia rose with her, momentary panic seizing her.
If she allowed Amanda to walk out of this courtroom, she wasn't sure when she'd be able to gather her courage again. They'd walked this fine line for weeks and she needed something to change.
Amanda paused, glancing back at her.
"Let me buy you a drink." Olivia offered at last.
Amanda's brows rose, and she glanced off at the front of the room with a look of cynicism. "Are you sure you want to do that?"
"Yes." Olivia whispered firmly.
She wanted to reach out to her, touch her again, but she held her hands at her side. She could only make the situation worse by initiating any sort of sympathetic or personal contact.
Amanda worked her teeth over her lip, her expression pensive as gazed back at Olivia. She was weighing the pros and the cons, the possible outcomes good or bad. Olivia wondered what might've happened if they had put as much forethought into their last drink together. She felt a strange dissonance inside her heart at the idea of the kiss never happening, even as she went forth to destroy the possibility of a second attempt at intimacy.
Trying to ignore the discrepancy between her moral and instinctual desires, Olivia pushed onwards, "This is a good day, Amanda. You should take this win for what it is."
Amanda's brow smoothed as she gazed back at her. Olivia could sense that Amanda wanted to give in but she was afraid to push too hard. Despite Amanda's tough facade, Olivia had begun to realize that she required a more delicate, sensitive touch, something she'd ruthlessly ignored for the better half of their relationship.
"All right…" Amanda acqueisced at last though an undercurrent of mistrust ran through her voice.
"All right." Olivia echoed with a smile. "Let's walk."
xxxxxx
When Amanda had seen Olivia standing in the elevator she hadn't expected to be walking arm and arm with her only an hour later.
Her palm was resting on Olivia's wrist, her tucked against Olivia's side, nearly too close for comfort. She could scarcely think of anything else as the elevator reached the ground floor, but she couldn't coax another protest from her lips. She intermittently glanced over at Olivia's profile, hoping to catch some sort of clue inside the lines and planes of her olive skin, but her motives were as unclear as they had been three weeks ago.
Amanda averted her gaze as Olivia lead them across the wide, marble-floored atrium and out onto the bustling street. She couldn't be caught staring, especially as the crowd swelled around them.
"The Mets are playing." Olivia commented as they reached the corner of the sidewalk. "I figure we can catch the end of the second inning."
"I didn't know you watched baseball." Amanda replied, glancing around them.
She felt far too aware of their linked arms, of the hoards of people passing by them, their eyes watching.
This is New York, dummy. She reprimanded herself. Not fucking backwoods Georgia… No one cares here…
"It's a part of the culture." Olivia replied easily. "So how's New York baseball compared to Georgia?"
The light turned, and the WALK sign flashed an affirmative. Amanda moved with Olivia, feeling uncoordinated and uncertain. The conversation seemed so banal. After their last exchange in a bar, this small talk sounded terrible bland and not entirely sincere.
"Well, you know small towns." Amanda finally replied, forcing herself into the small talk around the knot in her throat. "We're serious about our sports."
"Mmm," Olivia nodded. "Did you play in high school?"
"Oh yeah," Amanda said with a rough chuckle. "But I preferred tackle football in the backyard with the guys."
"I can imagine." Olivia smiled over at her. "I can just see you red-faced and dirty, taking on boys twice your size."
Amanda swallowed even harder at Olivia surprisingly vivid description of her, forcing her own laugh.
"Something like that." She whispered, glancing towards the sidewalk in front of her to hide the flush in her cheeks. "Let me guess, you were more of the debate team and prom queen?"
"Senior year." Olivia affirmed with a sigh. "That was back when brunettes with feathered hair and thick eyebrows were in instead of blonde hair and blue eyes."
"God, no, I would've never." Amanda shook her head quickly, nervous laughter bubbling up in her throat. "I wasn't even on the ballot."
"I suppose that suited you." Olivia said softly, as though she understood Amanda far more than Amanda ever wanted her to.
She couldn't find her voice to reply, and she was relieved when their footsteps brought them to their destination. She quickly slipped her arm away from Olivia's to pull the door open, allowing her to enter ahead. She was only able to breathe again when the other woman's back was to her, relieving her of her intense gaze.
She stepped inside after Olivia, welcoming the din of people talking and the TVs playing above to bar. In some kind of chaos perhaps her obvious discomfort would be lost.
They situated themselves at the bar, and Amanda busied herself by taking off her jacket to fill the empty spaces where she might have to look at Olivia to hold some kind of conversation.
She heard Olivia order for them, and she clenched her teeth in annoyance that Olivia knew her well enough to choose her drink order. It seemed like a detail that required much more intimacy than they'd managed to share in the past few weeks. The thought of intimacy and kisses shoved a knot of dread into Amanda's throat.
One kiss does not a relationship make. She told herself bitterly.
"So…" Olivia said as they settled into the stools. "Want to make a bet at who's winning?"
"What?" Amanda stuttered out, her stomach lurching at Olivia's far too poignant joke. "I...uh …"
In truth, she'd already placed her bets this morning, but surely Olivia couldn't know that.
"I always root for the Mets." Olivia added. "But I suppose that's the born and bred New Yorker in me."
Amanda shifted uncomfortably in her seat. This stilted attempt at friendship was nearly more than she could take. She preferred the truth over thinly veiled advances and she knew Olivia did as well. Perhaps that was why the entire exchange was falling so flat.
"Liv, look-" Amanda began, finally meeting her gaze.
"Don't." Olivia stopped her abruptly, her voice quiet yet firm.
Amanda swallowed hard as their gazes clashed tumultuously over the jovial atmosphere.
"I just…" Amanda whispered. "I don't know what you're doing."
Olivia pursed her lips and glanced back at the TV above the bar. Ironically, Amanda noted, the Mets were losing.
"I owe you an apology." Olivia replied at last, her chest compressing with a deep sigh as her gaze fell to the gleaming bar. "Maybe more than one."
"God, Liv…" Amanda turned away with a groan.
"Just let me-"
"No, no." Amanda shook her head quickly. I don't want your guilt, Liv."
She was suddenly fed up with their weeks of silence and denial, and sick to her stomach of swallowing all the things she wanted to say.
She tossed her a quick glance to see Olivia's brow furrowed, her gaze caught somewhere between desperation and frustration.
"I never asked you to be sorry." Amanda whispered quietly, unable to take another guilt-ridden, misguided apology.
Olivia looked away quickly, her fingers clenched around the glass.
"Amanda, I can't-"
"You keep saying that, but you did." Amanda cut her off, stabbing a finger at the bar. "You kissed me. You did that and yeah, I didn't stop you. But I didn't want to."
She felt breathless when the words came out, both terrified and relieved. She'd wanted to say those words for weeks, but she'd thought it better to bury that night in hopes that if it were out of sight it could be out of mind, but the dams she'd built to keep her feelings at bay had been weak and full of holes. One look, one touch from Olivia had shattered her; and sitting across from her, Olivia seemed no less emotionally battered.
She was staring down at her drink, her lips tight over words that Amanda knew wanted to spill out.
"Look." Amanda whispered huskily. "I've not always been able to be completely open with you, but I've always met you halfway."
Olivia nodded slowly before ducking her head to dash at the corner of her eye. When she lifted her head any trace of the shed tear was gone.
"I did kiss you." She admitted at last, her voice rough. "In the moment...I felt close to you. I don't feel that way often with...with anyone."
Olivia met her gaze at last and Amanda gripped her glass hard. She wanted to grab her and pull her in again. She'd kiss her harder this time, she imagined.
"Me neither." She said instead, remaining firmly seated in her chair.
"I'm just not sure it goes deeper." Olivia continued with a shake of her head, her voice hardening against emotion.
"Deeper than what?" Amanda asked.
"I've just gotten out of a relationship, Amanda." Olivia insisted, glancing over at her. "It's hard to discern my true feelings towards any type of romance. I cannot say that I love you or even that I am looking for another relationship. I know that I am tired and that I am alone, and I have been for awhile, and it would be unfair to expect you to fill those spaces without anything in return."
Amanda stared at her for a moment as the words settled in the air.
"What's to say I don't feel tired or alone?" Amanda whispered at last. "What's to say I don't feel capable of love? What's to say I want anything in return?"
"I'm sure you-"
"You don't know that." Amanda cut her off as tears stung her eyes. "I'm not asking for flowers and chocolates. I'm not asking for what you think love is."
"What are you asking for then?" Olivia asked, catching Amanda's eyes with her own dark, fiery ones.
Despite her sudden honesty, the true root of their relationship clung to the back of her tongue.
"I think you know." She replied, her voice emitting like gravel about the sounds of the TV and the conversations around them.
"That's not good enough." Olivia returned, her eyes narrowing as she dug into Amanda's expression for the truth.
"I only said I'd meet you halfway." Amanda whispered, turning quickly towards her drink to hide the flush that rose on her cheeks.
She took a deep gulp, felt the alcohol burn her throat, and focused on the physical heat of whiskey over desire.
Her heart raced when she felt Olivia's hand on her arm, fingers tight and demanding. She glanced over and found their faces mere inches apart, warm breath and whiskey perfuming the air between them.
Amanda gazed down at Olivia's lips and felt a groan in her throat.
"Jesus." She whispered, hanging her head until her forehead pressed against the cool grain of the bar.
Despite Amanda's frustrations, neither she nor Olivia could say it or even define it, but it hung there between them like something they couldn't ignore. The acknowledgement of their desires felt all too inevitable, but it wouldn't be today, not here when they were both so raw and vulnerable.
For a long moment all Amanda could hear was the pounding of her heart in her ears before Olivia's hand slipped away from her arm. It was both a relief and a loss.
"Let's finish up." Olivia said at last. "I promised Cragen I'd have you back to the house."
Any other day Amanda would've protested, but she couldn't. She wasn't even sure she wanted to.