A/N: Hello readers and welcome to "Let's Pretend"

So I've been obsessed with this idea for months now, and even though it's kinda hard to find inspiration these days, I still want to write it. I know the Rolivia part of the fandom is tiny, but if someone, anyone, can find some joy in this, it's worth it.

First, this is just a teaser. Meaning, there is still A LOT of this story that hasn't been written yet. I'm a busy student, so I can't promise quick or regular updates, but I'll do my best.

Second, the story is set in late S13. Meaning there are no kids and Lewis hasn't happened. I tried really hard to find a way to set this in "real time", but it just wouldn't have been realistic. That being said, everything up until the story starts still follows canon.

Third, like most of my stories this too will be angsty and uncomfortable at times. But (hopefully) not as dark and depressing as NLMG/AEOM. I'm kinda going for a sexy, lighthearted thriller here, if that's possible. Anyways. Have fun!

CHAPTER 1

Dave? David? Darrell?

She's pretty sure his name starts with a D, even though the memory of them meeting the night before is awfully unclear. But whatever it is, it doesn't really matter because he will be out of her apartment, and more importantly out of her, in less than fifteen minutes.

Hopefully.

He isn't even supposed to be in her apartment right now, thought she made that pretty clear last night.

Or maybe she dozed off before she had the chance-

Rick?

Whatever.

As far as one night stands go, he's not terrible. She's had worse. But the way he touches her; Overly eager, like an untrained, impatient puppy, makes her realize that too much porn might be the problem here.

Still, last night he was exactly what she was looking for.

Ok, that's a lie.

But he did serve a purpose, and she did appreciate his frantic nature when they stumbled through the door around midnight. Overly eager and untrained certainly didn't hurt when he had his head between her legs and she was drunk enough to not care about how she didn't know his name, but not so drunk that she couldn't hold onto his hair and use it as a steering wheel to guide him in the right direction.

So when she woke up and felt him behind her; hard and ready for a second round, she figured why not. If you're gonna be woken up at 6 am on a Sunday morning you might as well fuck.

"You feel amazing." He grunts, hands clumsily reaching for her breasts as she continues to ride him, trying to find a rhythm that will make her feel… well, anything really.

She rolls her eyes in response to his comment, doesn't even try to hide it, because what's the point when she'll never see this man ever again. Plus, it's not like he's paying attention to her face right now.

Nope. Apparently he's a tits guy and she wonders if he really thinks he's doing something with the way he keeps palming her breasts like he's trying to bounce two small basketballs.

Maybe with a little help, she thinks, grabbing one of his fumbling hands to move it between her legs, determined to get to that finish line before he does. Because she certainly didn't wake up this early for nothing.

But just as she's about to guide his fingers to where she actually needs them, her phone vibrates against the bedside table, making her stop the movement of her hips and glance towards the screen, now lit up with one name;

"Benson"

And listen. It's not that she wants her body to react, been fighting it for months now, actually. But she fails every goddamn time, this being no exception as she feels herself clench around David, or Rick, or was it Daniel?

Crap.

It was easy at first, to explain and rationalize her feelings and reactions. Easy to find ways, multiple if needed, to explain why she felt nervous around the brunette. Why she felt this almost pathological need to prove herself, this need for Olivia to like her. But then… Then Olivia made her way into her thoughts, her dreams and now, apparently, her bed.

Shit.

Just like so many other aspects of her life, this too just seems to be out of her control, or just out of control in general, because seriously? Shouldn't she at least be able to fight this? This- This attraction or fascination or-

Fuck.

"What are you doing?" He asks as she leans forward to grab the phone.

"It's work." She says, forcing a fake smile in between a few heavy breaths. "Don't worry, I can multitask."

Moving her body on top of his again, she picks the device up, clearing her throat before she answers. "Rollins."

"That was quick." Olivia mumbles, part of her breakfast apparently still in her mouth. "You up this early on a Sunday?"

That's not where I need your hand, Darrell. A little to the left-

"Mhm-"

She huffs out a breath, closes her eyes while picturing the woman on the other end, her body instantly reacting to the mental image. And again. She doesn't want to. It just… happens. Like it did last week after observing her in the interrogation room for nearly forty five minutes, and she had to take a cold shower when she made it home. Or the week before when they were stuck working late doing paperwork and she caught herself watching as Olivia kept rubbing her tired neck.

And it's the memory of that; Long and skilled fingers pressing down on a sore spot, and the soft hum that followed, that makes her move a little faster, all while tucking away the confusion and shame for later.

"You there?" Olivia asks.

Not. Yet.

"I'm-" Amanda starts, using her free hand to cover his mouth when he groans beneath her. "I'm working out."

There's a brief silence on the other end, and she can so easily picture Olivia, checking her watch, lifting an eyebrow in confusion, and then deciding to let it go.

"Cragen just called, wants us at Lenox Hill asap."

Lips formed in a thin line, she nods, hoping that the brunette can't hear that suspicious sound of a rattling headboard. "Ok-"

"He didn't give me any details-"

Keep talking-

"But you said you needed extra shifts, so-"

Almost there-

"Should I call Amaro, or?"

"No-" She shakes her head, like the other detective can actually see her, teeth clenched as she keeps moving, his fingers finally hitting the right spot.

Somewhat aware that she's still on the phone, she bites her lip, forcing herself to stay silent as the climax finally builds.

And builds, and builds, until-

"I'm coming."

Literally.

Turning the phone away from her chin, she fails at holding back a few, strangled moans, eyes shut tight as she rides it out, failing to ignore how the orgasm that's currently working its way through her system has nothing to do with the man she's straddling. And rather everything to do with the woman still on the line.

"I'll be there in thirty." Amanda finally says, the words rushed from her mouth before she hangs up, throwing the phone to the foot of her bed.

While trying to get her breathing under control, her brows furrow when she looks down at him, that sheepish grin on his face serving as an awkward reminder for her to make better life choices from now on. Or at least raise her standards a little.

"You need to leave." She mumbles, patting his chest, adding a polite smile for good measure.

"Wh-" Confused, he blinks up at her. "I'm still inside of you."

Her polite smile slowly morphs into a sarcastic smirk then, before she lifts herself up, holding back a hiss from both the soreness between her legs and in her muscles as she swings to the side and out of the bed.

"Not anymore." Amanda says, picking up his shirt from the floor and holding it out for him to grab.

She sees Olivia before Olivia sees her; Seated in an otherwise mostly empty waiting area, legs crossed, coffee in one hand and her phone in the other. And even in the godawful fluorescent hospital light that makes everyone look a little sickly, Amanda can't get herself to censor the first thought in her head; She's beautiful.

It's actually infuriating how put together she looks, as if she always looks like this, whether it's 10 pm on a Friday night, or like now, 7 am on a Sunday morning. Like she goes to bed and wakes up, flawless.

And she knows that it's not just her attraction (crush?) making her feel like this. No, she's had front row tickets to witness the effect Olivia Benson has on people.

The latest case in point? Their night out three weeks prior.

"I'll get the next round." Olivia says, rolling her eyes at Fin's joke before sliding out of the booth and disappearing in the direction of the bar.

"Hey-" Nick says, nodding towards the brunette as soon as she's out of hearing distance. "She doing ok?"

"Mind your own business." Fin responds before emptying his glass. "She's fine."

Blue eyes move from one man to the other, following their short exchange, knowing exactly what this is about; Nick needs some kind of approval or reassurance, for someone to tell him that Olivia Benson doesn't hate him. And Fin, bless his loyal soul, is telling him to back off, that whatever is going on with their colleague has nothing to do with him, and everything to do with the partner that came before him.

He who shall not be named. The infamous Elliot Stabler.

The one Nick Amaro finds himself constantly threatened by, his male ego making it impossible for him to hide his insecurities.

The reason why it took weeks, if not months, before Amanda saw a genuine smile on Olivia's face.

Now, her hate for this man, the partner who left, is most likely unjustified, but she still feels a pang of irrational anger every time he makes his presence known, even though he's long gone. Like he still holds this power over the squad room, casting some kind of shadow over it and the people who work there.

Nevertheless, if he hadn't left, she probably wouldn't be here; In a dusty bar, in a new city, sharing drinks with her new colleagues, while eyeing one in particular.

And speaking of eyes-

She shifts and blinks when she notices that Olivia is looking back at her from across the room. And at first she feels nothing but confusion, because the brunette is giving her that unmistakable look of annoyance, but Amanda is literally just sitting there, unmoving. And that's when she realizes that the annoyances isn't caused by her, but rather by a tall stranger, currently occupying Olivia's space.

He grins before leaning in to mumble something in the detective's ear and it makes Amanda clench her teeth, tightening the grip she has on her beer bottle.

But it's not her place to be jealous, not her place to intervene, so she sits still, waiting, trying to get back into the conversation, or at least pretend to listen to whatever story Munch is currently entertaining the group with.

Her forced attention lasts for approximately fifteen seconds.

And then her eyes shift back to the brunette.

It takes her another fifteen seconds before she decides to move. She might not share rank with her male co-workers, but she's still a damn good detective, recognizing an uncomfortable situation when she sees one.

Plus, she's a woman.

"There you are, honey." Amanda says, feigning confidence while throwing her arm around the other woman's shoulder. "Was beginning to worry."

"Honey?" The man scoffs, eyes narrowed as he takes in the blonde. "You're… You're together?"

"Yup-" Amanda nods before the woman in her hold can react, grabbing the glass of wine that Olivia is holding, taking a casual sip. "You gotta problem with that?" She adds, her voice laced with the same tone that she sometimes uses in interrogation.

"No-" He shakes his head, holding his hands up defensively, "No of course not."

"Good." She fakes a smile before turning to Olivia, relieved when she finds a hint of amusement in her eyes. "Now-" She continues. "I suggest you leave my girlfriend alone, because we're about to make out and we don't really need an audience for that."

They watch as he takes a quick drink from his beer, looking like he's about to make some kind of lude comment, but luckily he's smart enough not to, and finally he turns, leaving them alone.

"Honey?" Olivia asks, one brow lifted. "You know I can take care of myself, right?"

"Oh, I know." Amanda shrugs, playing it cool on the outside while still terrified that she just made a huge mistake, in spite of the small twitch in Olivia's upper lip. "Just wanted to see the look on his face."

The brunette retrieves her glass of wine then, leaning against the bar. "And how do you know I wasn't interested?"

"Him?" She hears herself scoff. "Please, you and I both know your standards are way higher than that." And before she has the chance to stop, she adds "At least they should be."

She can't be sure, and it's only for a short moment, but something that resembles gratefulness and maybe even a hint of flattery seems to glimmer in those brown eyes staring at her. It makes her gulp silently, and hold her breath as she waits for the other woman to respond.

"Let's just get back to our table." Olivia finally says, gesturing towards the counter to make Amanda grab the bottles. And then, just as they're about to move, she adds a wink and the final blow;

"Honey."

"Hey-" Amanda says, sinking down in the chair next to the other woman before taking a sip of her own coffee, wincing when it burns her tongue. Acting like what just happened in her bed, simply didn't happen.

"Morning." Olivia nods, barely glancing up from her phone.

"Still don't know why we're here?"

"Nope." The brunette mumbles against the lid of her cup, and Amanda blinks when she catches herself staring at her mouth. "Nurse just told me the doctor's gonna give us an update soon."

They don't speak for a while after that. Instead, Olivia keeps scrolling her phone, and Amanda grabs one of the magazines from the table next to her, making time pass by reading two year old celebrity gossip as they sit there in a silence that she finds impossible to define.

"Good workout?" Olivia eventually asks, finally putting her phone away.

"What?" The blonde asks, glancing up from the magazine with confused eyes before realization hits. "Oh- Uhm- Yeah, sure."

The other woman shifts then, changing her position in the uncomfortable chair and turning more fully towards her. "You always work out this early on Sundays?"

"Uh, sometimes-" Amanda mumbles, hoping that the small amount of makeup she put on before leaving the house is enough to cover up her burning cheeks. "When I can't sleep."

"You having trouble sleeping?"

"Jeez, what is this?" She laughs, the nervous tone palpable as her leg starts to bounce restlessly. "Interrogation?"

"Just… checking in." Olivia shrugs, eyeing the blonde from top to bottom.

But before Amanda can respond to that, as if she has any idea how to respond to that, they're interrupted.

"Detectives-" The doctor says while moving towards them, sounding winded and looking the part as he wipes away what looks like a sheen of sweat on his forehead. "Sorry about the wait."

"No worries." Amanda answers as both women move to a standing position, giving him a formal nod in the process. "Mind telling us why we were called in? We're kinda in the dark here."

"She said something-"

"Start from the beginning." Olivia interrupts. "Who is she?"

"White woman, probably in her late thirties? We don't have an ID yet, but she was brought in five hours ago after a fire in her apartment. One of the nurses tried asking her if there was anyone we could call. But she only said three words."

"And they were?" Amanda asks.

"She said 'they're raping them'. And look, she was in a lot of pain, probably confused, but I… I figured it still needed to be reported."

The two detectives share a look then; a short and silent exchange that speaks of both worry and confusion.

Finally, Olivia ends their wordless conversation as she turns back to the doctor. "We need to talk to her."

"You can't." He says, shaking his head while letting out a tired sigh. "She died ten minutes ago."