A/N: This is my first SVU fanfic and holy cannoli, am I nervous about it. I usually am found writing for Suits' Darvey. If this flops, that's where you will find me, licking my wounds ;)

I got massive writing burnout the summer of 2019 and Rollisi is the first thing that got me excited to hit the keys again, so yay!

My plan was to have a few chapters written first before I start posting but I'm impatient and need to stop editing, so here is Chapter 1 of ? and I will do my best to write and update regularly but work and life and perfectionism and fear of failure might slow me down from time to time. Please have patience and feel free to molest me with reviews. I'm a people pleaser, it might get me off my behind.

The story title is taken from Rachael Bawn's "Trying" (which played during Billie's baptism).

Longest story short, here is my take on 19x08 and the what could have been...


~oOo~

Trying (To Not Get In My Own Way)

Chapter 1 — Cut Through The Clouds

~oOo~

Dominick Carisi Jr. is not a nice guy.

That fact will be hard to believe for the people who've known him his whole life but Amanda Rollins knows better than any of them.

It is true that he was raised a good Catholic, he is compassionate and fatherly to a fault, and his modus operandi is to make everyone around him feel good.

And by God, does he make Amanda feel good.

Right now, that makes him the complete opposite of a nice guy though.

His fingers, his tongue, and everything below the waist — he knows exactly how to use it. He takes Amanda to heights she didn't know existed and the only nice thing about it is that there doesn't seem to be an end in sight.

Choir boys shouldn't know how to make a woman's body sing with pleasure; her baby's Uncle Sonny should not be able to whisper dirty but sweet nothings into her ear with the same accent he lulls Jesse to sleep with. Guys from Staten Island shouldn't be able to move their hips like Latin lovers.

If Amanda had known that the guy with the porn stash and obsession with Italian pastries would one day make her scream until she loses her voice, she would have given in to his advances long before this trip to West Virginia.

It might be the alcohol, the excitement of doing something that is so very wrong, or the fact that for a long time it has only been her and her fingers that cloud her judgment, but Dominick "Sonny" Carisi Jr. is possibly the best sex she has ever had. And on top of that, there is nothing Junior about him.

Inviting him into her room had been a moment of weakness. Having a toddler at home has been keeping Amanda from going out and finding a quick distraction from work stress for months now. She has never needed a man to feel complete, but she does need to feel completely filled every once in a while. And Sonny was just there. Offering release with his puppy dog eyes that have followed her every step for the last three years.

She doesn't want to give him false hope that this could ever be more — he isn't even her type — but the need to feel desired outweighs the voice screaming inside her head that she is about to ruin the longest relationship she has ever had.

The way he worships her body, soft kisses covering every inch of her skin, his breath hovering over the heat of her core, it makes her feel beautiful. Sensual. Invincible. Loved.

Strong movements, breathless kisses, roaming hands, it's all getting too much. To keep one last shred of dignity, to be able to look him in the eyes again after this, she has to keep the pretense up. He isn't Sonny, the overzealous boy from the other side of the Harbor, no, he is all man now. He is "Dom— Dominick!"

She comes with a shudder that makes goosebumps cover her whole body.

One last pump and he spills deep inside of her, his surprisingly strong arms keeping him hovering above.

His hair seems to be the only area not covered in sweat, her fingers having gripped it hard, resulting in a floppy look that makes him look like a dutiful hound, sniffing his way towards the seductive vixen.

The reminder of the vintage Disney movie she watched with Jesse and Noah just last weekend makes Amanda break out in a grin. Her lips the only body part she still is able to move, despite him making sure they rarely were left unattended in the last hour.

His eyes soften, the darkened desire in them giving way to his normal cheery sky blue.

"Hey." He sounds as breathless as she feels.

"Hi."

"You 'kay?"

"Hmmh." She nods, her eyes growing heavy.

"You wanna sleep?" His nose finds hers, softly caressing it as he grows hard against her hip again.

He is as difficult to exhaust as he is to shut up.

If Amanda would have given herself a second to think, she would have gathered up her clothes, called herself a cab back to New York, and drank herself into oblivion, forgetting she ever saw her partner naked. Instead, she locks her legs around him, pulls his body down on top of hers, and presses their lips together as if her life depends on it.

Dominick doesn't disappoint. He truly is like a dog with a bone. And he makes sure he devours every last bit of it. Over and over again.

~oOo~

When Amanda opens her eyes the next time, the sun is about to rise. The windows of the dingy motel room let in just enough brightness to highlight the hand covering her stomach, pulling her tight against the body pressed to her back.

Pale skin, long fingers, and a silver Apple Watch he didn't even have a chance to take off. Even if she had drunk every last memory of the previous night away, she would know who is sharing a bed with her right now.

What the fuck has she done.

Praying to all Gods that Carisi won't wake up, she shimmies out from under his arm, realizing that she is too well versed in the fuck and run when he doesn't even stir.

Having never fully unpacked her duffle bag, Amanda quickly dashes into the bathroom to brush her teeth and change, and within three minutes, she is out the door, ready to pick up Heather Parcell and go back to New York.

~oOo~

Amanda Rollins likes bad boys. Sonny knows that better than anyone. So when he threw that first punch at the bar, he might have finally turned into a guy that is on his partner's radar — sexually speaking. They trust each other implicitly, would throw themselves in front of a gun for the other, he is the only dad Jesse has ever known, and yet, all they've ever been is friends.

He is the first to admit he's never had game. He was the scrawny kid with the funny accent and the big dream of fighting for the little guys. If he thought that being a cop, wearing three-piece suits, and finishing Law School would make him more attractive to the girl of his dreams, he was sorely mistaken. He is so far in the friend zone with Amanda that he sees no way out. Being the nice guy apparently doesn't get you the girl, no matter how many times his Ma tells him it will.

Then the Tequila happened and the brawl and the way they work so fluently together, not just in a bar in Maysville but in everyday situations. How they walk in sync towards a crime scene, how they finish each other's sentences in interrogations, how they perfected Spaghetti Tuesdays and bedtime for her daughter. How she is so far from what he always wanted and yet everything he ever needs.

A quick reminder that he's not Detective Goody Two-Shoes exclusively, a sweet smile from her, and a moment, that moment, brought him closer to his fantasies than ever before. If she hadn't touched his shoulder, hadn't leaned back against her door for that extra second, hadn't sounded as unsure as he felt at the time, maybe everything would have been different. But she did touch and she did lean and she did breathe her last words out, so he only took three steps away from her before he turned around again and did what he'd wanted to do every day for the last three years.

~oOo~

Sonny wakes up to an empty bed. While that isn't a new experience for him, he does wonder if the pictures in his head are just an elaborate dream instead of the memory he expects.

His currently exhausted state, his nakedness, and the delicious soreness that in no way could have come from the bar fight, confirms to him that he had sex last night. The whiff of peach he gets from the pillow next to his, along with the recollection of soft skin and blonde tresses under his fingertips tells him exactly who it was with.

Staring at the ceiling, reveling in this moment, he keeps an ear out for any sounds coming from the bathroom. He can hear a shower running but considering how thin the walls are, it could come from anywhere in the motel. When the water stops a minute later and a muffled conversation starts in the room next door, he realizes that it wasn't his partner washing away their shared scent and sweat.

"'Manda?" Sonny cautiously calls out, wiggling out from under the blankets, and putting on his discarded boxer briefs.

First knocking on the closed bathroom door and then pushing it open, his face falls, his stomach drops, and his heart breaks.

Within a dejected breath, he has to come to terms with the fact that their perfect night of sated desires has been relegated to just a one-night-stand that she couldn't escape from fast enough.

~oOo~

By the time he is back in his own room, showered, packed, and checked-out, Amanda has already refueled the car and picked up Heather.

Even if he'd had time for breakfast, he is certain the coffee and muffin would have gotten stuck in his throat.

The two days of bar examinations and the bleeding head after Bobby Bianchi shoved him through a window would prove to be less torturous than the six hours car ride back to Manhatten.

In some ways, Sonny is glad they have a suspect sitting in the back because he isn't sure how he would have handled being alone with Amanda right now.

~oOo~

They have just crossed the border into Pennsylvania when Amanda breaks the unusual silence between them. In all of their three years, she has never seen Carisi shut his mouth for more than two minutes, much less two hours.

"You okay?" If he is feeling anything like her, he isn't, but there is no way she is letting one drunken night ruin their friendship. They are adults, they have to be able to move on from this.

"Yeah, I'm fine." A short reply.

"'Cause I can drive." Maybe he will become more talkative if the excuse of 'concentrating on the road' is gone.

"Nah, I slept like a baby." His eyes barely leave the road for a second. "How'd you sleep?" Despite the awkwardness of it all, she can't help but smirk that Chattering Carisi is back by her side. "'Cause sometimes, after drinking, I just…I stare at the ceiling, you know?"

Amanda has to take a deep breath in at that. He knows she was too busy to stare at the ceiling last night and considering he was on top, the only thing he stared at for hours was her. As much as she tried to push the images from before out of her head, the way her jeans rub against her sore core every time she moves in her seat now brings back flashes of his eyes all over her. Of a determined but currently very stoic Italian American who showed her that his hands are useful for way more than talking.

"You wanna talk about something?" She is happy to have him pull over so they can have it out right now, perp in the backseat be damned.

"No."

And that is the end of it. Heather's blind infatuation with a man so far out of her reach kills the mood even further and they stay quiet for the next four hours, all three lost in their own thoughts.

~oOo~

It's not until much later that Amanda gets another chance to be alone with him. If standing in the middle of the squad room could be considered alone.

After a full day of tension between them, she can't take it any longer. They need to talk.

"Hey, so I'm gonna get a sandwich if you wanna…"

"No, I'm good." Still as short as never before.

Change in tactic it is then — work conversation, something he can't ignore. She casts an eye on his laptop. "Is that about Heather?"

He doesn't seem to be caught off guard with her switching the topic so quickly. "Uh, yeah, I'm scanning her digital footprint."

"Anything useful?"

"Well, she lived her life on her computer, so there's a lot to go through."

It annoys her how this one sentence has so many unsaid meanings: Leave me alone, I'm busy working; You know I'm thorough and detailed—in all areas of my life; and Yes, we too have a lot to go through but right now I'm pissed. At least he's talking full sentences again.

Amanda isn't used to being the adult in their relationship but it seems that this time she has to be. She needs to make this right. "You sure you don't wanna get a sandwich with me?"

"I'm sure."

Okay, an argument surrounded by co-workers it is then. Not like they are strangers to that.

Rolling her eyes, she leans forward to give him some sense of privacy. "You know I'm human, right?" I have urges, I fuck things up. "Right, and human people…have sex, sometimes with people they love, sometimes with people they don't even know."

His apathy makes her want to yell, 'It was just sex, Carisi, grow up.'

"Mm, thanks for that."

"And sometimes with people who are pains in the ass."

If her words don't drive the point home, her eyes sure do.

~oOo~

The next day Sonny comes over for Jesse's second birthday but only stays long enough for one song and a piece of cannoli cake Amanda got from his favorite bakery.

They stay away from all personal conversations and he keeps his whole attention on the birthday girl. At the very least, Amanda's poor choices and lack of self-control didn't cost her daughter the only positive male role model in her life.

Jesse's happy squeal when Sonny covers her face with cake-smeared kisses makes Amanda's heart jump the same way it did when those same lips first touched hers.

And later that night, when she lies in her cold and empty bed, her daughter's teary "No bye-bye Unca Onny" resounding in her ear, she sheds a tear for all that was and all that could have been.

She can't expect him to forgive her for what she did. Her only hope had been that he would let her explain. How there was never a man who looked at her the way he did, who made her feel the way he did, who scared the living shit out of her by making her fear that one day she might end up like her mother. Dominick Carisi is to Jim Rollins what day is to night but she and her mother are cut from the same cloth. If she allows herself to fall, there is no way she will ever come back up again.

Amanda managed to cut an addiction before, she can do it again. There are no ponies or orange balls or boxing rings she needs to avoid this time around though, just a sensitive and moody Detective with empathetic eyes and experienced hands.

She has always known that he is too good for her.

But for one November night in Maysville, West Virginia, she thought she was good enough for him too.

~oOo~

They avoid each other for the rest of the case, acting civil but not going out of their way to be more than colleagues.

And then Noah disappears.

They aren't back to what they used to be, maybe they never will, but all personal bullshit gets put on the back burner while they work in sync to find their Lieutenant's son.

The fear that grips Amanda during the whole ordeal is mirrored in Sonny's actions when he holds Jesse that little bit tighter when they all gather at Olivia's place after.

He doesn't smile at her anymore and seems a bit more exasperated each day. He only FaceTimes when his goddaughter has a fever a week later instead of coming by and making his Ma's famous chicken noodle soup.

Christmas comes and goes — she spends it alone with Jesse, he covers for her and Liv at the precinct.

When he asks her to go for coffee in early January, she is too distracted with thoughts of psychotic mothers to take him up on it and spends the afternoon at home with her girl and calls her own mom instead. For the first time ever, she enjoys not having been loved too much when growing up.

He starts bringing her coffee again. He still doesn't smile but he is back to throwing her glances during interviews and interrogations.

Listening to Tara Sidnana recount her rape, they both realize that no matter what happened between them, they are fighting for something bigger here and they are better at it when they do it together.

And in between court cases and Molotov cocktails, they go back to suggestive looks over talks of 'white Christian stock who raise families and take care of their men'.

As Barba chooses his own beliefs over the law, Amanda is reminded of just how deep a parent's love can run. That you would choose them over yourself every single time.

The "Are we good?" "We're good," she shared with Sonny earlier that week echoes in her ears as she glides down on her bathroom floor.

They were ready to move on, leave West Virginia in the past, but the two distinct lines on the pregnancy test in her hand have just thwarted that plan for good.