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 and Rafe Rivera, Phillip, Alan, and Brandon Spaulding, Doris Wolfe, and Frank Cooper are owned by Guiding Light, CBS/TeleNext and Proctor & Gamble. Mary Poppins is the property of Walt Disney Productions. No copyright infringement intended with regard to GL, CBS/TeleNext, Proctor & Gamble, Walt Disney Productions, or any other entity. 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, the first of which was presented on Sunday, 4.3.2011, 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. I will endeavor to post updates on Fridays.

Dialogue in this chapter is original, with the exception of the confrontation between Olivia and Phillip that aired on 2.23.2009 and 2.24.2009. Some of the dialogue from these scenes has been altered to suit areas where this story has diverted from canon.

Rating: Chapter 8.2 is rated PG-13 for strong language.

Once again, thank you all for your continued interest in this story. I hope you enjoy the update…

Regards—

Kimberly

Confessions Lead to Strange Bedfellows

Copyright May, 2009

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

Anonymous

Chapter 8.2 – Confessions and Confrontations | Subtle Art of Denial:

Saturday Morning—Springfield Police Department…

Phillip Spaulding was a man condemned—by the perilous power his own poor choices—as well as nearly everyone who had ever loved him, including most of his children. He was feared. He was loathed. He was alone. And most of all, he was both ashamed and remorseful of his past behavior. Penitent was a good word for what he was, he supposed—after all, was that not the root for the word penitentiary? And that was probably where he would spend the next several years of his loathsome life—locked up, with plenty of time to contemplate the myriad ways he had offended God, his family, his friends, and just about every other resident of Springfield. He had finally managed to show himself a true Spaulding. Long live the legacy. Brandon would be so proud.

He looked up from his folded hands the moment he heard the measured click of her heels against the ashen concrete floor outside his cell. He knew it was her before she even entered his view—no other footsteps sounded quite like Olivia Spencer's. It was a funny thing to remember about a woman, he mused. He remembered her eyes, as well, and that made him smile fondly. But when he met those eyes, he found their usual sensual, sparkling jade turned steely-gray—as gray as the sweater that covered his back.

And when he said her name, it wasn't like a question, or even like an acknowledgment. It was more like the inevitable had finally come, and he held no recourse against it. He knew he deserved anything and everything she might hurl his direction, and he wouldn't fight back—no matter what. He was resigned to his fate. But she had no way of knowing that, and thus, she regarded him with a cautionary stance.

She stood there, staring at him through the bars of gray iron—the only thing keeping her from choking the life out of him, despite Natalia's plea that she think before she acts. "All right," she said, shaking her head up and down; her entire body trembling.

"All right, what?" Phillip said, confused.

"I can't wait," Olivia said, her voice quavering. "I need you to be straight with me about your intentions. Why are you here?" There were tears in her voice, but none fell from her eyes. "And no speeches, no, no nothing—just, just tell me the truth."

His mouth hung open, as he weighed his words. What could he possibly say to make it all right?

When he didn't answer, she reiterated, her voice stronger now. "I need to know why you're here."

"Are you armed?" he asked, offhandedly.

"No," she answered—the son-of-a-bitch was damned lucky she'd left her gun at home, "but that's really your thing these days, isn't it? It's very Alan of you." She didn't mean to antagonize him. She simply wanted the truth; though, she doubted there was any real possibility of her receiving it.

He cleared his throat. "Sorry about that," he said, embarrassed. "I'm sorry about many things… What I did to Emma—"

"You made my life a living hell," she said, cutting his lame excuse for an apology off cold.

"I'd say we both caused each other a lot of pain," he wagered, albeit a bit smugly. It was so Phillip to be just smug enough to get his point across without bordering on obnoxious, when he really had no right to be smug at all. If she weren't so wary of his intentions, she might actually have agreed with him—and that's exactly how he'd managed to charm her, and countless others, in the past. She steeled herself, and pressed forward.

"So, what, now everything's good?" She couldn't allow him even an inch—he could never be allowed to see her fear or weakness.

"I have no interest in picking up where I left off," he said, determinedly. "I wanna make amends, and move on."

"Just like that." It wasn't a question, but more a statement of absolute disbelief.

"No," he said, standing from his cot. "I mean, I know it will take time; but… thankfully, I have time. I got that second chance that everybody hopes for… So that's me. What about you?"

He was standing just inches from her now, and she was shielded from him only by bars. When she didn't answer, he laughed a bit sarcastically, shaking his head. "You may as well spit it out. I know why you're here."

There was that smug air again—lurking just beneath the surface. It infuriated her; but she showed him nothing.

"You wanna know what I'm going to do about Emma, and you wanna know what I think about this living arrangement that you have with our daughter, and another woman."

Olivia's pulse raced, and her face turned as ashen as the floor. "Emma writes an innocent essay for her fourth grade class, and the next thing I know, I've got politicians, and parents, and half the town making innuendos about my… alternative lifestyle. And then you show up afterwards. It's not a coincidence. You wanna know if I'm corrupting our daughter."

"I—yeah, Emma is one of the reasons I came back, that's true; but I didn't know anything about your alternative lifestyle. Is it true?"

Her first instinct told her to outright lie. To do whatever it took to protect her daughter from this man. But she couldn't lie about her feelings for Natalia—they were far too strong to deny. Deflection was better than denial—at least in theory. "What's true is that there's a bunch of ridiculous gossip out there, being spread by a bunch of narrow-minded idiots," she said. It was the truth; though even the semblance of denial where her love for Natalia was concerned, caused her heart to ache.

"Olivia—" The expression on his face, the condescending tone of his voice, said he knew she wasn't telling the whole story. "You don't care about gossip. So what's got you so worked up?"

"What are you saying?" she asked, again, deflecting his question.

"I'm saying I don't live in the stone age, so if there's any truth about this with you and Natalia, then, y'know, I make no judgments." He sounded sincere—and that scared the hell out of her, because she didn't want to be taken in by him again, only to be sorry for it in the end.

"So, okay, what, you think that we're together?" Again, a deflection, rather than an outright denial, she reasoned. Her defenses were up in full force.

"I think you're a passionate person, who marches to her own beat. You always have, so… no, it wouldn't surprise me. And you can trust me when I tell you, it wouldn't bother me." Delivered at a measured cadence, his reassurances begged her to believe him.

"I wanna trust you," she said, honestly, "but that's like saying I could trust your father—and that'll happen when pigs fly."

"Right—which is why I'm here," he said, indicating his current residence. "A whole lotta people in this town that don't trust me anymore. You are among those with good reason."

Even his outright admittance of his transgressions gave her no respite. "Yeah, well I'm the only one of them being accused of a lesbian love affair," she snapped.

"I'm not accusing you of anything, Olivia," he said, calmly. "I'm saying that whatever kind of relationship you have with this woman, as long as Emma is happy and safe, it's okay with me."

"I don't need your approval," she snapped, defiantly. "The person I choose to share my life and my bed with is none of your goddamn business. Do you hear me?"

Phillip raised his hands in surrender. "Loud and clear," he confirmed, albeit mockingly.

She wanted to wipe that condescending smirk right off of his face. "But just for the record, I am not sleeping with her." At least that much was the God's honest truth.

"Yet—" he smugly challenged.

The knowing expression in his blue eyes unnerved her. She cleared her throat, and changed the subject, lest he wedge his way any further beneath her skin. "And as for Emma's happiness and safety—well, it's a little late for you to be worrying about that now. I'm the one who will protect her. From you."

Before he could reply, the guard interrupted them, telling her that time was up.

When she turned to leave, he called out to her, and the sound of his voice drew her attention.

"When all this surfaced, your friend stuck by you, right?" he asked. It was a rhetorical question, and it stopped her in her tracks. "Might tell you something."

He was smug, but he was right. Damn him for that!

She glared at him then, and took a deep breath. "I want you to stay out of my life," she commanded, before turning on her heel, and walking away.

Breathing raggedly, Olivia grabbed her chest, as she leaned against the wall just outside the holding area. Even through the heaviness of her winter coat, she could feel the chill of the concrete against her back. But that sensation was nothing in comparison with the pressure she felt within her lungs and chest. She thought she might actually hyperventilate; the stress of the confrontation threatening to overwhelm her.

The officer who accompanied her asked if she was all right, and she nodded affirmatively, thanking him in a breathless burst of air that rushed from burning lungs. She felt like she'd just run a marathon in the freezing cold.

Pushing away from the wall with concerted effort, she followed the officer down the hall—away from the man whose mere presence had caused such intense disquiet within her. She hated having denied her feelings for Natalia, even if only through avoidance of Phillip's accusations. She hated that she had done exactly the opposite of what she told Natalia she would do. How could she ever face her with this truth? God, she felt like a complete hypocrite! But Phillip Spaulding was not to be trusted. Not until he proved himself worthy. She doubted that day would ever come; yet in her heart, she hoped it would—for Emma's sake, as well as hers and Natalia's.

Barely making it back to the squad room under her own steam, the stress gave way to exhaustion, and she collapsed onto a chair near the doorway, burying her face in her hands. Natalia hadn't wanted her to come here—at least not alone. But Olivia had argued the wisdom in having Natalia accompany her—she didn't want Natalia getting caught in the crossfire. Now she pondered the wisdom of having ignored the woman's reasoning in favor of her own.

It was then that Doris strolled into the squad room in search of Frank, instead finding Olivia slumped in the chair, near tears. "Olivia?" she said quietly, crouching down beside her. "What's wrong? Did Phillip do something?"

"He's alive—isn't that enough?" Olivia snapped, choking back a sob.

Placing a gentle hand on Olivia's knee, Doris said, "From what I've heard about him, it's more than enough to push half this damned town to tears." Her tone was empathic, and Olivia nodded in response.

"Murder is more like it," Olivia gulped.

"That too, but let's not do anything that'll get you arrested, okay? I'm pretty sure Natalia learned well from you, and wouldn't hesitate to threaten me if I had to lock you up."

There was a touch of humor in Doris's tone, and it made Olivia smile just a little. "Smartass."

"Just keepin' it real, Spencer," Doris grinned. "She'd be sweet about it, of course—but we both know my ass would be on the chopping block, and I have neither the time nor the energy to deal with being blackmailed by Mother Teresa."

"First she's Mary Poppins," Olivia sniffed, "and now she's Mother Teresa?"

"What's it to you? Either way, she's too damned good for your sorry ass," Doris snarked.

That which Doris meant as sarcastic banter, only served to make Olivia cry. She hated appearing vulnerable in front of this woman, but truth was truth, and Olivia damned well knew it. There was nothing about her that was worthy of Natalia's love—especially after the way she had denied her to Phillip.

"Well, shit, I didn't mean to make you cry," Doris said, gruffly. She almost felt bad. Almost.

Olivia sniffed again. "Just shut up, okay." It wasn't a request.

"Jesus Christ, Olivia, what the hell is wrong with you?"

"You're right. I don't deserve her." Olivia's voice was riddled with guilt and shame.

"What are you talking about? That's nonsense," Doris fussed. "I was only taking cheap shots at you. That's what we do."

"He asked me outright, if I was involved with Natalia, and I all but denied it, okay?"

"Who, Phillip?"

"Yes!" Olivia screeched. "Who the hell else would I be talking about?"

Doris sighed. "Clearly you're distraught here, so I'm gonna ignore the fact that you're being a complete bitch, and try to help you anyway." It was her way of showing compassion, without looking like she was going soft.

"How big of you," Olivia said, dryly.

"I thought so." Doris feigned arrogance. "So, what it is? Are you afraid he'll try to take Emma if he learns the truth?" she posited correctly. "Because I know you're not ashamed of your feelings for her."

"That pretty much sums it up," Olivia sighed. "It's not a coincidence that Alan blasted me for our living arrangements, and then Phillip showed up here just weeks after your little press conference."

Doris grasped Olivia arms tightly. "You listen to me, okay?" Her tone was urgent. "You were right about Alan being behind that so-called press conference," she confessed. "And I'm sorry for my involvement, and what that did to you and your family."

Olivia glanced up, finally meeting the Mayor's gaze. "Are you for real?" she barked, incredulously.

The expression in Doris's blue eyes spoke her truth. "Yes, I'm for real," she said, sincerely. "After our little run-in at Ladies' Night, I told Alan that I wouldn't do his bidding anymore. I—"

"So this little change-of-heart is just about protecting your precious reputation," Olivia accused. "You're so afraid I'm gonna spill your dirty little secret, that you'll do anything to keep me quiet—including placating me, and crossing Alan Spaulding. Is that it?"

"No, that's not it at all," Doris adamantly denied. She sounded hurt. "But I don't blame you for being skeptical."

"Then what is it?" Olivia demanded.

Doris sighed. "Look, I don't wanna get all sappy here, but—"

"Oh, God forbid!" Olivia mocked.

"Oh, shut up," Doris snapped, "before I just say piss on it, and leave you to deal with Phillip on your own."

"Sorry—," Olivia said, duly chastised. "You were saying something about being sappy?"

Studying the floor for a long moment, Doris reigned in her emotions. And then she met Olivia's gaze again. "What you and Natalia have—it's the real thing, Olivia," she quietly acknowledged. "I didn't realize that until the damage was already done, and as soon as I did, I regretted my actions. I can't undo what I've done, but I promise I'll help you from now on. I'll do what I can to protect you and your family from Phillip and Alan."

Though Olivia's head told her to be skeptical, her heart told her the Mayor's vow was sincere. She nodded her head, accepting Doris at her word. "Thank you." The depth of appreciation in her tone was worth a thousand words.

"Don't make a big deal out of it, okay?" Doris said, gruffly. "And if you tell anyone what I said, I'll call you a liar," she warned, her protective walls dropping firmly back into place.

"Not a word to anyone other than Natalia," Olivia assured.

Doris's gaze softened as she looked at Olivia again. What was it about this woman that she could so easily evoke compassion within her? It baffled the usually stalwart Mayor. "I know you're feeling like an ass for denying your feelings in there," she said, gently, "but I think under the circumstances, it's understandable."

"Natalia isn't denying her feelings to anyone," Olivia argued; "so why is it okay for me?"

"I understand," Doris acknowledged. "Just give me a couple of days, okay? Don't say anything to him until I have a chance to run interference."

"What are you up to?" Olivia asked, cautiously.

"Trust me, it's better that you don't know," Doris said, cryptically.

Olivia stopped to consider what Natalia would have to say about such an alliance, and realized she wouldn't approve. In fact Natalia would hate it, and that just wouldn't do. Olivia knew she had already engaged in enough apology-worthy stupidity for one day, by denying her feelings in the first place. She wouldn't make it any worse by dealing with Phillip via veiled threats from the Mayor, or anyone else for that matter. "You know what," she said with determination, "I really appreciate what you're trying to do here, but I think I'd rather play this one straight."

"No pun intended?" Doris said with her trademark wolfish grin.

Olivia rolled her eyes, and tried not to laugh. It didn't work. "Seriously," she said, trying to keep a straight face, "I think I'd rather wait and see what Phillip does after he finds out. Y'know, give him a chance to prove to me that he's changed, rather than forcing him into behaving the way I want."

"You sure about that?" Doris asked, tentatively.

"Yes," Olivia declared resolutely, confirming it with a firm nod of her head. "If I have problems with Alan, I would really appreciate having you run interference—as long as you play above-board; but I'll deal with Phillip on my own."

"Jesus, you really are doing things differently this time," Doris noted, albeit sarcastically. "It's a shame you couldn't have grown a conscience before you blackmailed me," she huffed.

"I never would've gone through with that," Olivia confessed, meeting Doris's gaze solidly for the first time since their conversation began.

Doris dropped her guard slightly. "I know," she quietly admitted. "But you're still a terrible influence on Natalia," she teased. "Teaching Mother Teresa how to blackmail…"

"Admit it, you were impressed," Olivia wagered.

Doris shrugged. "A little. Maybe."

Olivia laughed. She knew there was no maybe about it.

"Okay, I'll leave you to deal with Phillip," Doris agreed, smoothly changing the subject, "but you let me know if you need help with either one of them."

"I will," Olivia assured, offering the Mayor a warm smile.

"And in the meantime, I'll do what I can to keep Phillip behind bars," Doris was saying, even as Olivia offered her assurances.

"Thank you," Olivia said, appreciatively.

Doris nodded a silent acknowledgment, and stood to her full height, smoothing the wrinkles from her skirt. She inquired as to Olivia's ability to make it home on her own; and not wanting Doris to witness any further vulnerability in her, Olivia assured her that she would be fine. She thanked her again, and in her usual brusqueness, Doris brushed it off, mumbling something about needing to find Frank. And as she headed toward the Chief of Detectives' office, Doris left Olivia to ponder once again, the rather curious nature of their fledgling friendship.

Saturday Afternoon—the Farmhouse of Love…

Olivia returned to the farmhouse, feeling better after her exchange with Doris, but still a little shaken—not only from her encounter with Phillip, but more specifically from her backhanded denial of her relationship with Natalia.

Natalia knew immediately that something was very wrong. And when Olivia explained what had happened, instead of being angry, Natalia drew her close. "I don't understand why you're being so hard on yourself," she said, soothingly. "I never wanted you to tell him in the first place."

"What?" Olivia said, confused. She pulled away, searching Natalia's face. "I thought we were on the same page about this? Do you regret our decision to not hide our relationship? Are you having second thoughts about telling Rafe?" The questions came in such a rapid fire, she sounded as though she were in a panic.

"No, of course not," Natalia said, reassuringly. She gently touched Olivia's face. "That's not it at all." Now it was her turn to feel confused. She offered Olivia a questioning expression. "Why are you so upset?"

Olivia quickly realized what she was doing. "Because I'm being a selfish idiot," she sheepishly confessed. "I want you to be ready to tell the whole world, including your son, so that I don't have to feel insecure; but I'm being a chicken-shit about telling my ex-husband."

"At least you're being honest," Natalia said, drolly.

"Stop it," Olivia groused; but she couldn't stop the grin that percolated at the corners of her mouth.

"Look, I understand, okay?" Natalia said, supportively. "You're scared of losing our little girl. I certainly can't fault you for that—I'm concerned about it, too."

Olivia sniffed, and nodded her head. "I'm terrified of what he'll do, Natalia," she said, softly.

"I know you are, Honey," Natalia said, empathically, pulling Olivia close again. She brushed her lips against Olivia's temple. "And I agree that we should be… judicious," she chose her words wisely, "when it comes to Phillip. Alan, too, for that matter. He was ready to pounce at the mere insinuation of us being a couple, so…"

"Don't remind me," Olivia sighed, frustrated.

"Exactly," Natalia reiterated. "With Alan already on the warpath without even a shred of proof, I can only imagine what he'll be like once he has the proof in his hands. But whatever he or Phillip decide to do, we'll handle it together, okay?"

Natalia's words, her tone, were reassuring, and Olivia crawled deeper into her arms. "Okay," she murmured acceptingly. "Thank you," she whispered. Resting in the safety of Natalia's embrace, she sighed, contentedly. "What did I ever do to deserve you?"

"You just got really lucky," Natalia grinned, brushing her lips against Olivia's temple again.

"Yes, I did," Olivia agreed, her voice brimming with sincerity. Closing her eyes then, she burrowed into the warmth of Natalia's embrace, finding herself thankful beyond words. Facing Phillip had been arduous, at best, and now that it was over, nothing in the world could've felt better than home…

TBC… in Chapter 8.3: Confession and Confrontations: Guess Who's Coming to Dinner…