Confessions Lead to Strange Bedfellows Chapter 8: Confessions & Confron Part I, a guiding light fanfic

Title: Confessions Lead to Strange Bedfellows

Author: Kimberly21570

Fandom: Guiding Light

Pairing: Olivia and Natalia

Disclaimers and Other Assorted Ramblings: The characters of Olivia and Emma Spencer, Natalia Rivera, and Jane the nanny are owned by Guiding Light, CBS/TeleNext and Proctor & Gamble. No copyright infringement intended with regard to GL, CBS/TeleNext, Proctor & Gamble, or any other entity. Dialogue in this update is original. Written for fun, not profit. All other standard disclaimers apply.

Chapter 8 consists of 9 updates that will be presented in smaller segments than what you're generally accustomed to receiving. I find this to be the most prudent presentation because, while there is an overarching theme, each major segment has its own specific purpose. The segments will be posted weekly over the course of nine weeks, which will allow me to continue providing you all with regular updates through the end of my semester. After this initial Sunday posting, I will endeavor to post new updates each Friday for the next eight weeks. I cannot promise weekly updates beyond that time, as the next chapter is still in the process of being written. However, I do promise to strive toward the goal of weekly updates throughout the summer. We shall see…

Rating: Chapter 8.1 is rated PG-13.

Confessions Lead to Strange Bedfellows

"In the confrontation between the stream and the rock, the stream always wins. Not through strength, but through persistence."

Anonymous

Chapter 8.1 – Confessions and Confrontations | Anchor through the Storms:

What are confessions, really? Are they defined solely by the element of revealing some wrongdoing that is shameful, or somehow embarrassing? Or can they simply be the sharing of a truth that was previously unknown to another person? Can it be considered a confession if both persons already knew, but the truth had never been acknowledged? How are confessions made?

Some would argue that confessions, in their purest form, represent the disclosure of one's sins in the sacrament of reconciliation. Some argue that such reconciliation is a function of seeking and attaining forgiveness; the act of confessing to an uninvolved third party, notwithstanding. Many would argue that confessions have nothing to do with absolution or reconciliation at all; but rather, they are the simple sharing of one's own unique truth. In reality, confessions are as diverse in nature as are human beings—no two possess the exact same characteristics, and no two are driven by identical motivations; nor do they lead to a carbon-copy resolution.

Some confessions are spoken, some written—others are merely observed. Some confessions lead to mutual understanding and acceptance—and others, unfortunately, lead to undesirable, often times painful confrontations. And always, always, they lead to consequences; be they good… or bad. Regardless though, of how they are rendered, or where they ultimately lead, all confessions possess within them the power to liberate their confessors. And these very truths were something Olivia and Natalia would experience in spades during the weekend following their open declaration of togetherness…

Friday Morning—the Farmhouse of Love…

Yawning sleepily, Jane wandered down the stairs in search of her morning coffee. She had heard Olivia and Natalia come in sometime before five that morning; but distinctly remembered hearing their car in the driveway quite some time before then. She had briefly wondered what they had been doing all night; then decided that it was really none of her concern.

If she was even the slightest bit surprised to find Natalia asleep on the sofa, nestled in Olivia's arms, it didn't register on her face. They seemed to just 'fit' together—and from the first time she had witnessed them in the throes of an argument, that fit was something she had never even thought to question.

Natalia's head still lay in the center of Olivia's chest; her ear against the rhythmic beating of the strong heart that pulsed beneath, as her left hand clutched the silky blue satin of Olivia's pajama top. And even covered by the thick quilt, Jane could tell that their bodies were intricately intertwined.

Planting her hands on her hips, she chuckled to herself as she shook her head. Well, this certainly explained a lot. To each, their own, she supposed, shrugging her shoulders nonchalantly, as she shuffled into the kitchen.

Fifteen minutes later, the aroma of freshly brewed coffee teased at the edges of Olivia's awareness, coaxing her from sleep. It flooded her senses along with the glorious realization that Natalia's body was still nestled partially on top of her own. She hadn't intended for them to fall asleep like this—not really, anyway. But she certainly wasn't complaining about waking up with Natalia in her arms again. She could feel the warmth of Natalia's breath against her chest, even through the fabric of her pajamas, and it paradoxically calmed and excited her. Stirring slightly beneath Natalia's curvaceous body, she reveled in the visceral sensations such movement caused within her, and sighed contentedly. Life was beyond good—it was positively spectacular; and willing away her niggling insecurities, she summoned some of Natalia's faith, praying with everything in her that it would always be this way.

The light tracing of Olivia's fingertips on the warmth of Natalia's back inveigled her from sound sleep, bringing her to the keen awareness of Olivia's body beneath her own. Moaning softly, she stretched languorously, and peered up at Olivia, meeting her gaze with a dimpled smile. "Morning, Gorgeous," she murmured groggily, as she scooted up just enough to kiss her properly.

"Mmmm… Morning, Beautiful," Olivia purred, as their lips parted, and Natalia's mouth slowly traveled along her jawbone.

She took her time, enjoying the low moans she received in response to her exploration of Olivia's neck, before returning to that soft, welcoming mouth. "How's my sexy Rockstar this morning?"

Olivia blushed, and smiled into their kiss. "Stop it," she fussed against Natalia's lips.

Natalia's soft laugh was like a fluffy towel right out of the dryer—it warmed Olivia's body from head to toe. "Sleep well?"

"Never better," Natalia grinned. Two hours of sleep wasn't nearly enough, but she would take any pittance she could get if it meant waking up with this woman beside her.

"Liar," Olivia teased, knowingly.

"Any sleep where I wake up with you is the best," Natalia declared.

"Agreed." Olivia smiled and kissed her again. Playful little kisses that explored the corners of Natalia's mouth, causing her to giggle.

"Good morning," Jane greeted cheerily, as she strolled into the living room carrying a tray with three steaming mugs. Again, if she was taken aback by their obvious intimacy, it didn't show. "Coffee?"

"God, yes!" Olivia nearly growled, drawing a laugh from Natalia, as they fumbled to bring themselves into an upright position on the sofa. "Thank you," she grinned sheepishly, as she reached for two of the mugs. Handing one to Natalia, she couldn't help but notice how adorable Natalia looked sitting next to her, Indian-style, hair mussed, and sleepy-eyed, with that old quilt haphazardly wrapped around her mid-section.

"You're welcome," Jane laughed. "Thought you could both use some." She didn't mention why.

"You have no idea," Olivia groaned, taking a long sip from her mug. She was so not a morning person—especially on so little sleep. "Thanks for staying over last night," she said, appreciatively.

"No problem, Ms. Spencer," Jane assured. She crossed her legs, and settled in for a chat with them.

Natalia peered at Jane over the rim of her cup. "I hope you were comfortable."

"Very," Jane affirmed with a smile. "Thank you."

Olivia inquired about Emma's night then, and Jane reported that after picking out their Friday night movie, they had played games for about an hour before Emma decided on an early bath. The little girl had been admittedly tired from being up late the previous night, and after a quick bath and a story, she had fallen asleep without incident. Based upon the timeline given, Olivia accurately surmised that she and Natalia had spoken with Emma somewhere between bath and story, and she was pleased to hear there was no repeat of the previous night's sleep disturbance.

They chatted for a bit longer, setting out a tentative schedule for the following week. And then, at Jane's encouragement, the two of them settled in on the sofa, enjoying the remainder of their coffee and a few of Natalia's muffins left over from a few mornings prior, while Jane attended to getting Emma up and moving before heading home to start her own day.

Bright and chipper on a Friday morning, Emma was full of questions about their "grown-up date" as they fed her breakfast and packed her lunch. They shared meaningful glances, knowing smiles, and the occasional familiar banter, as they relayed stories and patiently answered each question to her satisfaction.

When Natalia told Emma about Olivia's musical performance, once again affectionately calling the hotelier "my Rockstar," Emma giggled, which prompted Olivia to make a face at her tormentor.

"Oh, would you stop that," she grumped at Natalia; which only made Emma giggle more. She liked the way her Mommy grumped with Natalia—it was different than with anyone else. That was because Mommy loved Natalia differently, she wisely surmised, and knowing that made her feel really good inside.

Emma watched them with measured interest throughout the conversation, and when they were finished sharing all their stories, she declared that they should have a date night every week—because it made them really happy. They couldn't have agreed more. Natalia excitedly declared that she would be in charge of planning their next date night, and Olivia was more than pleased with the idea.

And after putting Emma on the bus, they collapsed on the sofa again, dozing off and on until mid-morning, when they finally roused enough to get ready for work. Nepotism certainly had its perks, Natalia thought, as she kissed Olivia just one more time, before heading upstairs to the shower. It wasn't something she would often take advantage of, but she could imagine a few occasions where it might come in really handy. She couldn't wait for to discover a few more of those occasions.

Friday Afternoon—the Beacon…

Coming into work late on Friday provided Olivia with a rare opportunity to execute the element of surprise upon some very unsuspecting employees. Through her covert connection with their text messaging web, Olivia had been privy to some very interesting employee gossip since revealing the true nature of her relationship with Natalia on Wednesday evening, and she had a few rather distasteful bones to pick.

She couldn't risk exposing her connection, and thus, she sought other ways to nail the guiltiest of suspects. To that end, Jen had been informed by Olivia the previous afternoon, that she and Natalia would be in after lunch on Friday, and she had been given strict instructions to tell no one about the change in their schedule. Anyone who called was to be told the hotelier and her executive assistant were unavailable, and that someone would get back with them later in the day. Only in an extreme emergency was Olivia's cell phone to ring. Jen had committed the instructions to memory, and assured Olivia they would be followed to the letter.

Upon their arrival Friday afternoon, Natalia slipped in through the side entrance, near their suite of offices, while Olivia went in search of her prey. Luckily for her, the primary target of her hunt proved quite predictable and thus, was rather helpful in orchestrating her own demise. Skulking around the corner in her stealthy sneakers, she found Diane and Jackie exactly where she suspected they would be—on their afternoon break, outside near the rear service entrance. As per usual, they had their meddlesome little heads together, spiritedly chattering about everyone's business but their own.

"Y'know, I saw those two front desk dykes slip into the Dragon Lady's lair yesterday morning," Diane was saying, contempt literally dripping from her lips. "They went in separately, but they were there, all the same. You'd think being the dykes they are, they'd have the balls to go in together." There was no humor in her harsh laugh, only disdain.

"What do you think they were up to?" Jackie asked. Olivia could hear the simmering anticipation of scandal in the woman's tone.

"Nothin' good, I'm sure," Diana accused. "I'll bet they were sucking up to the Dragon Lady—y'know, now they know she's one of 'em. Sure didn't hurt Little Miss Sunshine, that's for damn sure—she fucks the Dragon Lady, and look at how fast she climbed the ranks! Maid Service to Executive Assistant, all in the fuck of an eye…"

Olivia had been standing there less than a minute, and already she was seething. Her blood pressure quickly hit the boiling point, and her heart was pounding so hard she feared it might actually fly out of her chest. She couldn't believe the two of them couldn't hear it. But then again, they were certainly otherwise occupied, weren't they? It took every ounce of willpower she possessed, to hold her temper. But she knew there would be more incriminating statements to come, and so she steeled her nerves, and waited.

"You don't really think—" Jackie's protest fell on deaf ears.

Diane squared her stout shoulders, adopting an air of superiority. "Course I think she fucked her way to the top," she said, scathingly. It wasn't the first time she had hurled such scathing accusations—she just wasn't usually careless enough to hurl them on Beacon property.

Olivia's fists clenched so tightly, her nails were digging into her palms. She gritted her teeth to keep from screaming. She would look at the wounds in her hands later, and wonder at the absence of blood.

"She must be one hell of a good lay, too, 'cause we all know she doesn't have an ounce of education," Diane was saying, her tone rife with superiority and judgment. "She got knocked-up with that jailbird of a kid of hers—y'know, the one who tried to off the D.A.—when she was barely sixteen. What a whore. I'll bet she never even finished high school. She probably lived off the government 'til she scored the job here at the Beacon."

"Don't you think you're being just a bit judgmental, Diane?" Jackie challenged. She loved titillating gossip as much as the next person, but she hated it when Diane went on a vindictive tear.

A bit? Please! Olivia barked inwardly. Jesus Christ! The Catholic Church itself is less judgmental. She hoped Natalia had never heard any of this bullshit. She never would, if Olivia had anything to say about it.

"Ms. Rivera may not have a formal education, but she's really intelligent, Diane. And she's never been anything but kind to us," Jackie was saying, when Olivia returned her attention to the two of them.

"Yeah, she's intelligent all right," Diane sneered, "Intelligent enough to fuck her way to the boardroom. And now that she's there, how much you wanna bet this place will turn into a haven for dykes and queers."

Jackie's eyes narrowed, as she pursed her thin lips. "You don't think the Dragon Lady'll start hiring them in droves now that she's one of 'em, do ya? She sounded appalled.

Diane sighed, clearly disgusted. "Yeah, I do, and I don't think I could stand working around any more of 'em, either—it's bad enough we've had to deal with the front desk dykes, and that fucking little fairy Greg all this time!"

Having stomached just about all she could stand, Olivia bit her tongue. Hard. Ordinarily, she would've launched into an all-out tirade, but loathsome behavior of this magnitude required a much more thoughtful response. Already formulating a plan to deal with the mouthy head bartender and her squirrelly little sidekick—once and for all, she turned on her sneaker-clad heel, and walked away.

Friday Evening—the Farmhouse of Love…

It was a bit later than usual when they finally arrived at the farmhouse that evening, and practically stumbling through the door, Olivia and Natalia were happy to be home again. It had been an absolutely crazy afternoon at the Beacon—one crisis after another requiring their attention; and they were both thoroughly exhausted. Sometimes half-days were more draining than full ones, Natalia had mused on the drive home. But even in her exhaustion, she found herself thankful for no longer having to work three physically demanding jobs just to make ends meet. Olivia Spencer had been a godsend to her in more ways than she could even count, and she felt blessed beyond reason.

They had swung by the pizzeria on South Wesley to pick up dinner on their way back to the farmhouse, and Olivia grinned triumphantly, when Natalia didn't argue over the toppings. Fatigued, Natalia had been more than willing to let Olivia eat whatever she wanted, as long as she didn't have to cook it—at least for one night. If she were honest, all she really wanted was a hot, relaxing shower, a few of Olivia's goodnight kisses, and the warmth of her bed. She hoped Emma hadn't picked a movie that would require too much of her attention.

Setting her purse down on the kitchen table with an unintended clunk, she headed toward the china cabinet to get plates and glasses. Noticing how drained Natalia seemed, Olivia quickly abandoned the pizza box on the counter, and sent Emma from the room on an impromptu errand that would likely keep her occupied for a bit. Once Emma had scampered off, chattering animatedly about pizza and their movie, Olivia approached Natalia, gently loosening her grip on the dishware.

Natalia attempted to protest, but Olivia wrapped insistent arms around her from behind. Pulling her close, she nuzzled into Natalia's neck, brushing her mouth against warm skin. "Are you all right, Sweetheart?" she whispered, concerned.

Giving in to the draw of those strong arms, Natalia allowed her body to sink into Olivia's warmth. "Just tired, Honey," she sighed, her head falling back against Olivia's shoulder. "For a short week, it sure has been long and exhausting."

"Yeah, I know what you mean," Olivia empathized. "I shouldn't have kept you out so late last night. I'm sure that didn't help."

Giving Olivia's forearm an affectionate squeeze, Natalia quietly declared, "I wouldn't change one thing about last night, Liv. It was perfect. I can live with being a little tired in exchange for our memories."

Olivia's heart swelled in her chest. She loved knowing how much she had pleased Natalia with the choices she made for their first date. But still, staying out so late had been a bit much. "Next week we'll take a nap on Thursday afternoon."

"That sounds like a plan," Natalia sighed, contentedly. "I certainly could've used one yesterday."

"I think you could use one even more today," Olivia asserted. "Do you wanna skip the movie tonight? I'm sure Em would understand."

Natalia shook her head. "I know she would," she easily agreed, "that's why I would never disappoint her."

Olivia smiled and squeezed her tighter. God, she loved this woman. "We'll make it a short night; eat while we watch the movie."

Natalia made noises of thankful agreement. "We should get things set up in the living ro—"

"I have a better idea," Olivia interjected. She kissed Natalia's ear. "Why don't you go upstairs, take a nice, hot shower, and relax. I'll get things ready for dinner," she offered. "I'll even make a salad—and I'll eat it without argument." She grinned as she sweetened the deal, hoping that would bring a smile to Natalia's gorgeous face.

It worked like a charm, and suddenly, dimples bloomed. "You sure know how to sweet-talk a girl."

"Only you," Olivia whispered against Natalia's ear.

Natalia turned in Olivia's arms, and placing the palms of her hands on Olivia's upper chest, she slid them upward along her neck, cupping her face. "I love you," she whispered with resolute conviction, as she searched those shimmering pools of liquid jade.

Before Olivia could even respond, Natalia kissed her softly, promised she would be back soon; and then kissed her again, before heading toward the beckoning shower and its promised solace. And Olivia couldn't stop the smile that teased at her lips as she watched Natalia saunter toward the stairs. Life was just getting better and better, every single day, and coming home, just being with Natalia, was enough to anchor her through any storm…

TBC in Chapter 8.2: Confession and Confrontations: Subtle Art of Denial