Hello! After a long break, I'm back with a short (but hopefully sweet) update. This is for Jaime, who wanted something happy after the last batch of problematic TG chapters. :D
A/N: Not much to warn for other than a little consensual sex and so much sweetness that your teeth might rot a little. Quotes from better things by the kinks.
Thank you in advance for reading and responding! Comments are always gratefully received. :)
Coming up in future chapters- Nick struggles to name his new family member and Olivia prepares for her California adventure. But first...
"Well, well, well. Would you look at this warm welcome?"
The Chief steps off of the elevator with a younger man at his side, marveling at the tinsel strewn here and there throughout the room. His face lights up even more when he sees the open box of donuts. "Look at that, son, they even brought refreshments! Is this a great group or what?"
"Of course we did," you say, not mentioning that the decorations and treats were actually for the floor Christmas party. You didn't know to expect Dodds Jr today, because his father had neglected to mention when he'd be starting at SVU.
"And my God, look at you. You're ready to have that baby any day now!"
"Actually, Chief, I'm still due in April."
He looks over at the desk calendar, which has "December 20th, 2015" printed on it in bold font, and you can see him doing the calculations in his head. "My God. Well, I'm sure it'll fly by!"
"I'm sure it will." Your eyes meet those of your new co-sergeant, who seems to recognize your polite smile for what it is and gives you a little smirk. Huh. Maybe this guy won't be so bad...if only you can stop thinking about his low sperm count every time you see him. Damnit!
Proud Papa Dodds asks you to all gather around while he introduces you to his son and highlights his many accomplishments, starting with a Perfect Attendance award he received from his preschool at the age of three. By the time he got to Dodds Jr's commendation from Mayor Bloomberg for his work on a taskforce dedicated to cracking down on exotic animal ownership, Mike is shuffling his feet and looking down at the ground in embarrassment. "But I don't want to take up too much of your time, so let me just say that I have no doubt my boy will be an asset to SVU."
"And we're so grateful to have him. Aren't we, guys?" You turn toward your squad to gauge their reactions. Amanda and Fin appear to be mostly asleep, but Carisi nods in agreement and claps his hands together a few times.
"It's an honor, Sergeant Dodds."
"Yeah, I...thanks. Glad to be here," Mike says, cheeks still on fire. "Looking forward to learning a lot from all of you."
"Atta boy, son. How about you get to know your new detectives while I talk with Sergeant Benson here for a second?"
You're worried that the chief is about to give you a lecture on the care and feeding of his son, but (thank God) he just wanted to follow up on an open child luring case from Staten Island. Of course, he did have to end the conversation by shaking his head at you in wonderment. "April, huh? Really?"
"Really."
"Hey, uh, Liv. D'you have a minute?" Amanda asks.
You look over at your new charge, who Carisi seems to have taken an instant liking to. "Carisi, would you do me a favor and give Sergeant Dodds the grand tour?"
"Yeah, of course. But it's 10:30- don't forget your banana." You nod and take the piece of fruit from him, unpeeling it as Amanda follows you into your office.
"So what can I do for you, Rollins?" She seems a little uncomfortable, and you're worried that this means that either she's in trouble or wants to ask you something about Nick. Maybe both. "Or are you volunteering to take my spot on Wheel of Fortune?"
"Oh no, no. That's...I wouldn't want to deprive you of that experience. I actually wanted to ask you for a favor. But I mean, I know it might be weird, and I promise that if you don't want to- I'll understand. No hard feelings."
"Okay...so what's the favor?"
"Well. You probably don't know- actually, I'm sure you don't know because I haven't told anyone except Nick. But over the summer, I started going to this group. A therapy group for assault survivors."
"Wow," you say, instantly cringing at the way that came out. You're definitely surprised because you knew she wasn't a fan of therapists, but you didn't want to make a big deal out of it. "I mean, good for you. I guess it's been helpful if you've been going for that long?"
"It really has. I wasn't sure how I'd feel at first, but I've gotten pretty close with the other women and...they're really supportive. I've learned a lot from them."
"That's great, Amanda. Honestly." You're genuinely happy that she's getting help, of course, but you're also silently admiring the courage she must have to be able to open up to strangers like that. It's something you were never able (and still aren't able) to do.
Her cheeks turn pink at hearing your praise. "Thanks. Uh, so now that we've been together as a group for about six months, we're having this weekend thing out on Long Island, to kinda look back on how we've grown and celebrate and...we're supposed to bring somebody who's been a support person for us. A female. And most of the women are bringing their mom or a sister, a few are bringing their best friend or another relative but...wow. This is so awkward, but I was wondering if you'd come with me."
"You want me to-"
"I know it's a strange thing to ask, and it's probably really unprofessional, but I- you can say no, you don't even have to give me a reason. I could invite one of the girls I know from GA meetings, or-"
"Amanda," you say gently before she can get even more worked up. "I'm...this is surprising, but I'm really honored that you trust me enough to want me there." Which is true. You can definitely relate to the problem of not having family members to depend on in these situations, and becoming pregnant has made you realize just how important your few female friends really are to you. "I need to make sure that Noah's taken care of, but I doubt either of them would mind having a father/son weekend...so as long as that's settled and I'm healthy, then I'd love to go with you."
"That's o- wait, seriously?" she asks, obviously already expecting that you would say no.
"Seriously. This is a huge thing, something I can tell you've worked hard at, and I want to be there to support you."
"Oh god, thank you Se- I mean, Liv..." she stammers.
You can tell that she's close to tearing up, so you reach over as far as you can to try touching her hand. "You're welcome. But I have to ask you to get out of my office if you're going to cry, because then I'll start crying too and I'll be a big mess for the rest of the day. You laugh, but it's true! I get going and I can't stop. It's pretty disgusting."
"Okay, you're right. We can't worry the boys like that."
"Speaking of boys, I wanted to make sure...you're really okay with me doing this whole Wheel of Fortune thing with Nick?" You know that her relationship with him is a bit shaky, and you don't want your made for TV marriage to complicate it even more.
"Ha! Are you kidding? Better you than me. I promise, zero hard feelings here. It'll be the highlight of his life and I'm just happy I'll have nothing to do with it."
"Alright, if you're sure. But if you change your mind and decide you want to take my place..."
She laughs. "Don't worry, that won't happen."
"Hey, the way I look at it- it's only an hour. It'll make him happy, and maybe I'll be able to add a nice sum of money to the kids' college funds."
"You'll be lucky if you win enough for them to buy a latte at the campus Starbucks." She snickers and shakes her head, one hand over her mouth. "You have seen him play along with the TV, haven't you?"
"No? I mean, I just assumed that he must be somewhat good at it since it's his favorite."
"Oh Liv," she says, still grimacing. "He's terrible."
"What? But then...how did he get through the audition?"
"I dunno. He told me he aced it, so I'm thinking it was a fluke and he just got hot at the right time...or else he actually sucked and they invited him on the show for comedic value. Maybe he's getting punked."
You groan through your teeth, head tilting back as you rub at your eyes. "Great."
{the very best of choruses
to follow all the doubt and sadness}
Later that day, you see someone has texted you a photo. You assume that it's The Boyfriend showing you something Noah made at preschool or built with his Legos.
Instead, it's a picture of Nick holding a fluffy puppy. Oddly enough, they both have the same gleeful expression on their faces. [meet my new baby!]
[congrats! have you picked a name yet?]
[still thinking]
[is it a boy or girl?]
[you don't need to know, liv. I'm raising him without telling him his gender so he won't get hung up on stereotypes.]
[got it. but you're saying 'he', so that right there gives it away that he's male]
[Liv! he's a dog, he doesn't know pronouns]
"Look at the nice doggy your tio has," you say to Noah that evening, showing him the picture on your phone. "He has one blue eye and one brown eye. Isn't that pretty?"
Noah gets down on all fours and starts barking, shaking his butt like he's wagging a tail. "You mean Nick didn't end up taking home every dog in the shelter?" The Boyfriend asks.
"I know he was tempted. But this one was special because he's missing one of his back legs. See?" You hold out your phone so that he can see one of the dozen pictures you'd been sent in the last few hours. "So they both have a little bit of a limp. Nick says they can understand each other."
The Boyfriend frowns, watching you carefully. "Are you crying?"
"What? No. Of course not."
"You are! Is everything alright?"
"Yeah, fine," you scoff, brushing the back of your hand over your eyes. "It's sweet, okay? Mock me all you want."
Your son-turned-puppy has stopped barking and started singing Joy To The World. His preschool is in full holiday mode, and he's seemed to memorize every song on the Christmas-themed Pandora station that they listen to during free time.
You, on the other hand, are a bit of a Scrooge who doesn't like most Christmas carols. (You've learned to keep this opinion to yourself, because people who hear it look at you like you've just admitted that you eat kittens.) So when he first came home bursting with yuletide cheer, you were gritting your teeth, but with time you've started to enjoy it. It makes you a proud momma to hear all that he's learned, even if you know he has no clue what 'let heaven and nature sing' actually means.
"Hey Noah," The Boyfriend says, reaching for your phone. "Do you want to sing for your sister?"
"Sister dere," Noah informs him as he crawls over to you and pats your belly.
"She is! She's right there in my tummy. What are you doing, hon?"
The Boyfriend grins. "You're never going to get around to sending out Christmas cards, let's face it-"
"You don't know that!" You've been meaning to get them done since Halloween, but Step 1: buy cards is still unchecked on your to-do list.
"Yeah, I do. And that's alright. No one really reads them anyway. So I thought we'll get a video of Noah singing a Christmas song for the baby and then just email that to everyone."
"Who are you, and what have you done with-"
"I sing! I sing!" Noah's perched on your lap, bouncing with excitement.
"See? Two to one, you're outvoted," The Boyfriend says. "What are you gonna sing, little man?"
"Deckhalls!"
"Okay, sing nice and loud so we can hear you," he instructs. Noah is all too happy to comply, especially when it comes to the 'falalalala' part. When he finishes the song, The Boyfriend motions to you to keep Noah in your lap. "Who were you singing to, Noah?"
"Sister."
"And where is sister?" Noah suddenly gets shy, ducking his head away from the camera as he kisses your bump. "That's very nice, buddy. Can you say merry Christmas to everyone?"
"Mer' Christmas, erryone," he repeats before he decides he's had enough of performing and takes off toward the kitchen.
Your daughter, who seems to have been resting all evening, responds with a flurry of kicks. Did she know this mini-concert was for her? Is she already a music lover like her big brother?
The Boyfriend notices the faraway smile on your face. "You okay?"
"Perfect," you assure him, because it really is. The Christmas lights are sparkling, reflecting off of the snow frosted windows, and the whole apartment smells like pine trees and cinnamon. You're with your amazing boyfriend, listening to your precious son singing while your baby is safe and happy in your belly. You turn toward The Boyfriend, and just as your eyes meet...
crash!
"Awfer CHRIST'S SAKE!" you hear a tiny voice shout from inside the nursery.
So much for your perfect moment...
{be an optimist instead
and somehow happiness will find you}
Thank God Noah was a sound sleeper.
Even though sometimes you were amazed by the things he'd manage to sleep through, like two garbage trucks colliding directly below his window, the thought still occurred to you that maybe you should try a little harder to keep it down.
"Fuck!" Or, you know, maybe not. It was impossible to stay quiet when you felt like this, when The Boyfriend had you pinned against the wall and he'd just captured one of your nipples in his mouth. He was pressed up against you, lifting your legs so they were wrapped around his waist, and you were amazed at how he was managing this without your belly getting in the way.
You're bumping against the wall every time he drives into you, but Noah still slumbers on in the next room. You know that tomorrow you'll have bruises on your back, on your hips and your wrists where he was holding onto you, and you'll feel tired and sore in all the best ways. Just like you did when he tied you up, and just like you do now when a chunk of your hair gets trapped between his hand and the wall.
"Shit, I didn't mean to pull it," he says when you feel the tug on your scalp and groan loudly. "Sorry, I'll-"
"No, no. Stop."
He misinterprets the urgency in your voice, gently setting you back down on your feet. "Damnit, what's wrong? Do you wanna lie down? Are you-"
"I'm fine," you promise as you step in front of him and sink to your knees. "You just reminded me of something we've never done before."
"Liv, what're you..."
"I'll give you one guess." You lean forward and your tongue darts out of your mouth, laving over the head of his cock. "Now, if I'm gonna do this for you, you'd better pull my hair."
That first lick must have been convincing, because he wastes no time in sinking his hands into your brunette locks. You swallow him down, moaning when he hits the back of your throat, and his hips automatically jerk forward as a reaction to the vibrations around his dick.
"Do it. Fuck my-"
"Olivia Benson," says Fin. Wait- Fin? What the hell is he doing here?
And then you're not in your bedroom anymore. You're not even in your apartment. You're in the cribs, lying on your side in a bottom bunk, with Fin watching you from the doorway.
"Why'm I..." You try to swing your legs to the side of the bed and stand up quickly, but your belly and your general sense of disorientation leave you flailing around on your back with your limbs in the air like a flipped-over crab.
"Hey, take it easy, I've got you." Fin comes to your rescue, although not without snickering a little as he does. "How 'bout you sit here for a second? I don't want you falling on your ass because your knees gave out."
"What's going on?" you ask, rubbing your eyes with the back of your hand tiredly. You remember coming here to lie down for a few minutes after lunch because your back was hurting. Then somehow you ended up at home in your bedroom with The Boyfriend and...oh. Shit.
"Your man and Noah stopped by to say hi, so I said I'd come get you. They're in your office talking with Carisi."
"Wow, okay." Your drowsiness has worn off, leaving you with an entirely different sensation located directly between your legs. You're trying not to squirm and Fin's trying not to laugh. "What's so funny?"
He gives up, the sound of his laughter echoing against the concrete walls. "I'm not gonna ask what you were dreamin' about-"
"Thank y-"
"But anyone ever tell you that you talk in your sleep?" He shakes his head, still snickering. "You've got a dirty mouth, Sergeant!"
You shove him playfully before you get up and head toward the door, trying to think about things that aren't sex with 'your man'. It's not easy. When you first got pregnant and were reading everything you could get your hands on, you saw plenty of information about how pregnancy hormones could affect your sex drive for better or worse. Your OB had warned you that it was normal if you went through periods where you were simply too tired and uncomfortable to have any interest in it.
And you were uncomfortable, what with the heartburn and leg cramps and near-constant backache from lugging around a baby that seemed to grow heavier by the hour. You were also exhausted from working full time and chasing after a toddler while simultaneously growing another human. But lastly, mostly, you were horny. Even when you were so wiped out at day's end that you barely had the energy to lift a toothbrush, your mind and your lady parts were focused on one thing. It was cruel. It was like taunting a hungry dog with the aroma of a juicy steak- until the dog nodded off on the toilet when it got up to pee for the fifth time that night. What a weird dog.
"Mooooom!" Noah shouted as soon as he saw you come into view, running in your direction and very nearly colliding with a homicide sergeant who happened to be passing by.
"Noah, baby, you've gotta watch where you're going," you chide him gently, looking up at the other officer as you bend down to give your son a hug. "Sorry about that, Sergeant Price."
"He needs to learn not to run indoors! You know what the punishment for running inside my grammy's house was? She'd wake you up for a five mile run at dawn! It only took once, and we learned our lesson."
"I'll...keep that in mind." You stand up slowly, offering Noah your hand to hold as you walk back toward your office. "What are you and Daddy doing here?"
"Cinnabun roll!"
Sure enough, The Boyfriend was standing in front of your desk holding a bakery box with two freshly baked cinnamon rolls in it. "Thought you could probably use a treat."
"Oh God." Between the smell of frosted pastries and your still ongoing hormone rush, you were so enamored with him at that moment that you didn't know if you should marry him, fuck him, or both. "I am so in love with you right now..."
"S'prise!" Noah reminded you, climbing onto your desk chair and looking very official as if he was about to challenge Dodds Jr. for a spot as your number two.
"Yes, I'm very surprised. Did you get these after Daddy came to pick you up from school?" He babbled on for a few minutes about his class Christmas party, and you purposely kept your back to The Boyfriend to keep yourself under control. "You know what, little man? How about you go say hi to Fin for a second while I talk to Dad?"
"Unka Fin!" Noah calls out, charging into the squadroom. Lately he thinks that 'Uncle Fin' is just about the coolest guy on the planet (especially when he let him "help" play video games), and Fin is all too happy to oblige when it comes to spoiling him.
Once you make sure Fin's keeping an eye on him, you close the blinds on your office windows and give The Boyfriend a predatory look. "So."
"Before you can say it, I'm not here to fuck you."
"But-"
"Not that I've never thought about doing it here..." He looks around the room, rubbing his chin like he's sizing up all the potential locations, then wraps his arms around you from behind. "How are my girls? Were you napping?"
"Resting my eyes," you correct him.
"Sure you're okay?"
"Yeah. It's just my back." You take his hands and put them right above your belly button. "She's kicking a lot today. I wish you could feel it."
"Soon," he says, kissing the crown of your head.
"Want to know about the dream I just had?"
"Lemme guess. It involves you sitting on Santa's lap?"
"No. I don't like guys with beards," you say, reaching back and giving his a little tug. He's still refusing to shave it until the baby comes, and on the rare occasions that you're not having sex dreams, you have nightmares about having to give birth alone because the hospital security staff won't let in that grossly unkempt homeless guy who says he's your boyfriend.
"Yeah you do." He takes a step sideways so that you're now facing the wall and he's still behind you. "You love me," he says in a low, smooth tone, kissing the back of your neck from your shoulder up to your hairline, "and you want me to fuck you right here, beard and all, because you're a dirty girl."
"Fuck," you whine, squeezing your thighs together. You're so turned on right now that it's kinda embarrassing, considering that you're at work and your whole squad, plus your son, is just outside your office door. "I do."
"That wouldn't be very professional, would it?" He's nuzzling that spot behind your ear, his left hand on your hip and his right hand covering yours. When you try to move so that your ass would be nestled against his crotch, he catches onto what you're attempting and steps back, smacking your ass gently. "No. You're not getting any."
You give him your best seductive smile. "You could spank me again, but-"
"I said no," and damn him for making rejection sound so sexy. "Go eat your cinnamon roll, get some work done, all that...and you can tell me about your dream tonight." He picks up your phone and holds it out at arms' length, leaning in and pressing his lips to your temple. "Smile!"
"What are-" you sputter as the flash goes off, grabbing the phone out of his hand. It's actually a cute picture of him, which is a rarity because he's so camera shy, but you've got your eyes closed and nose scrunched up with your mouth open in mid-protest. "What'd you do that for?"
He shrugs, tapping the screen a few times to set the picture as your new home screen. "Something to remember me by."