A/N: Thank you SO, SO much for the kind reviews! They make me so happy and inspired me to finish this chapter a lot faster than expected.
This takes place right after S13E17: SVU reopens one of Olivia's old cases to determine if they are dealing with a copycat or a case of wrongful imprisonment. This leads to Olivia's work being scrutinized, and forces her to end things with David Haden.
Slightly implied gambling addiction in this chapter but other than that, no TW. But, explicit smut is imminent.
KALEO – Way Down We Go
Fenne Lily – What's Good
CHAPTER 2 – MARCH 2012
Her fingers keeps tapping against the glass, almost in complete sync with how her left leg is bouncing on top of the foot rail. She's been sitting by the bar since she left the precinct two hours ago, fighting the urge that's always there, but somehow always intensifies at night.
She keeps staring down at the glass her restless hands are cradling, wondering how long it'll take tonight. How long until she finally gives up and gives in? She had promised herself things would change when she moved to New York. Everything would change, because it had to. Her bad habits and her unhealthy ways would be left behind in Georgia, along with her family and memories from that godawful motel room that smelled like cheap whiskey and mold.
A cigarette. That's what she needs, she decides. But as she reaches for the pack and discovers that it's empty, that's essentially what triggers her decision.
Fuck it.
She downs the rest of her scotch and moves down from the chair, already hating herself for what she's about to do.
Just as she places a twenty on the bar counter, a familiar voice reaches her ears.
"Rollins?"
Her heart skips a beat and she mentally kicks herself for it, even though it's completely outside of her control, like so many other things in her life.
"Liv? What are you doing here?"
"It's the Playwright, Amanda. Not exactly where you go if you want to avoid people you're working with." Her tone is part condescending and part overbearing, but considering what this last week has been like for the brunette, Amanda lets it slide.
"Yeah. Right."
"You leaving?" Olivia asks when the blonde still hasn't moved from her spot.
"Uh, I was." She notices the other woman's reaction and immediately jumps up on the chair. "But I don't have to."
"It's fine. I wasn't exactly looking for company."
Something about the way she says it, makes Amanda think that company is exactly what Olivia is looking for tonight.
"Well, we're here now."
She doesn't want to pry, but she knows the other woman is far from ok. No decent cop would make it out of what she has just been through without at least a few scars on her soul.
"Liv... this case-"
"Don't, Rollins."
"Come on. I mean, I know we're not exactly friends, but you can still talk to me."
"I didn't come here to talk. I came here to drink." She effectively shuts their non-conversation down while getting the bartender's attention. Amanda is surprised when she orders bourbon for the both of them.
You weren't looking for company, huh?
They sit in silence for almost ten minutes, nursing their drinks without looking at each other.
This is ridiculous, Amanda thinks as she allows herself to glance over at the brunette.
"I know you don't want to talk about what happened. But-" She sees that Olivia is about to interrupt her and holds up a hand. "If you change your mind. I'm here."
Something changes then, and it's like there's a slight crack in that massive wall around the woman sitting next to her. She doesn't say anything, but her face softens when their eyes finally meet.
"So…" Amanda says before she clears her throat, mustering up enough courage to push this a little further now that Olivia isn't in full armor anymore. "I heard Haden is gonna be in charge of that new unit? At least that's good, right? Not some random ass from IAB who wants to take our guns and badges just for the hell of it."
"Yeah... David is… He's one of the good ones." The look on her face and the tone in her voice gives it away immediately. Amanda Rollins is a trained detective after all.
"Oh."
"Yup." Olivia confirms the unspoken truth as she raises the glass to her lips.
"I'm sorry." She doesn't think before her hand is already draped gently over the brunette's arm. She lets it rest there, waiting for Olivia to pull away, but she doesn't.
"It is what it is."
Ever since their first handshake in the middle of the squad room, Amanda has repeatedly told herself that the tension she sometimes feels between them is merely a result of Olivia losing her old partner right before her own arrival to New York. But it's been six months, and the tension is still there.
And as she empties her third glass, it's becoming increasingly hard to ignore the effect Olivia has on her. Especially when a hand suddenly lands on the small of her back and the brunette leans in slightly with a pair of eyes that at some point has turned impossibly dark.
"How 'bout a nightcap? It's too crowded here."
"I'm working tomorrow." Her quick response is solely based on the fact that she is caught off guard. Everyone knows that a nightcap is rarely just a nightcap.
"On a Sunday? You owe Cragen a favor or something?"
"Need the overtime, that's all."
"Right... Well, I have water." Olivia shrugs casually, but it's clear that she means it as a joke.
"Fine. One drink."
When they enter the elevator in Olivia's building, there's an abrupt shift in the energy between them. It's intriguing and heavy at the same time. Amanda feels herself sway just a little, not sure if it's the booze or the fact that they're standing close enough for her to smell the other woman's perfume. She is anxiously aware of those brown eyes on her, and it feels like her skin is about to catch fire from the stare.
It finally dawns on her that she's definitely not here for a drink. Because if she's being honest with herself, it makes no sense that she's here at all. They're not close, they've exchanged more words tonight than in the six months they've known each other.
There's the slightest chance that she's wrong in her assumptions, though. So she smiles innocently when Olivia unlocks the door and lets her in.
Wordlessly, the brunette moves to the kitchen where she grabs two bottles of beer from the fridge. Amanda is disappointed and relieved at the same time, because she needs something stronger to get through whatever is going on between them right now, but surely, she has already had too much. When Olivia hands her one of the bottles, their fingers touch and for some reason neither woman flinches.
"Thanks." Amanda mumbles as she leans against the counter and takes a swig, not sure what to say next.
Take the fucking lead, Liv. I need to know why I'm here.
But when her bottle is half empty and she allows herself to study the other woman's eyes, she realizes that Olivia is probably feeling more lost than anyone tonight. She looks deflated, just on the verge of broken.
"You have to stop beating yourself up, Liv."
She regrets her words instantly, because she knows it's not what Olivia needs right now.
"I don't-"
"Wanna talk about it. I know." She puts the bottle down, removes her brown leather jacket and lets it drop down on the countertop behind her.
Fuck it.
"So… let's not talk."
There is a short moment then, not more than five seconds, where they just look at each other and neither of them makes a move. But when their lips finally meet, it feels like the inevitable has just happened. Two broken and bruised hearts, finding the wrong kind of comfort in all the wrong places.
She knows they can't go slow. She knows she can't touch Olivia like she really wants to. Because that might just be too much for both of them to handle. So she forces herself to match the brunette's impatience.
Without breaking the kiss she moves them away from the kitchen and towards the couch, all while working on getting the brunette undressed as fast as possible before they realize what a massive mistake they're about to make. There's no need for a conversation about why Olivia won't be letting her into her bedroom tonight.
"Sit."
The simple demand surprises her, even though she's the one voicing it. Because it's usually the other way around, whether it's because of seniority or just the natural authority that Olivia carries herself with. She's usually the one giving orders.
But nothing makes sense tonight, so it's sort of a given that everything about them is off balance.
She listens as Olivia breaths come out faster and more superficial when she kneels in front of her and hooks one of her legs over her shoulder.
In a moment of weakness, she allows herself to peer up at the brunette and she's momentarily taken aback by the uncertainty in Olivia's brown eyes. It's such a contrast to the sureness, bordering on cockiness, that she's used to finding there.
"Liv, we can stop if-"
"No."
They share another look and Amanda isn't entirely sure what it's about. She settles for something between consent and despair, which will have to suffice for what is about to happen.
She eventually lowers her head, and intuitively she's tempted to place gentle kisses on the naturally tan and soft skin now available to her. She wants to take her time, but, based on the mood between them and Olivia's demeanor, she refrains. No gentle kisses. Just her tongue and her mouth desperate to bring Olivia to a better place, away from wherever her mind is currently at.
And with the sounds now coming from the brunette, at least it seems like she's somewhat successful at doing exactly that.
Every single gasp, moan and cry sends another rush of wetness to her own core, and she silently and selfishly prays that Olivia is prepared to give something in return. She realizes then that she never have those thoughts during sex with men. If they're unable to finish the job, she'll just do it herself. But tonight that's just not what she's looking for. Olivia isn't the only one in desperate need for a distraction.
A hand comes down on the top of her head and she moans when she's pushed just a little closer. Yes, she convinces herself, this is what she wants. This is how it'll have to play out tonight. To divert them both from the fact that they'll be regretting all of this in a matter of minutes.
But as she enters her with two fingers and registers Olivia's reaction, both vocal and physical, she can't help but think that this might be the best mistake she has ever made.
When she curls her fingers, the firm grip on her head tightens. It's impossible to breathe in this position, but her need for oxygen seems completely irrelevant when Olivia's walls start to clench around her. The orgasm that follow shortly after is mostly silent, except for a couple of sharp cries when she's at the height of it.
As much as she wants to ignore it, Amanda is convinced that those cries will be lodged in her brain forever. Unless she wakes up tomorrow with no recollection of this ever happening, which is also a possibility based on her current alcohol levels.
Again, she stops herself from what she really wants to do. Olivia is trembling and all she wants is to help ease her body down from the climax. Instead, she extracts her fingers a little too quickly, eliciting a hiss from the woman in front of her.
It doesn't seem to bother Olivia too much, though. "Take your clothes off."
Thank god, she thinks, biting down on her lip to avoid saying the words out loud.
When she's left in only her underwear, Olivia grabs her hand, the one she knows still tastes and smells of what she just did, and motions for Amanda to straddle her.
"This..." The brunette breathes out when they're face to face, "never happened. Are we clear?"
Amanda swallows and wonders how something can feel like such a stab and such a relief at the same time.
"Crystal."
And then she kisses her, hard, letting Olivia taste herself on her lips, on her tongue. It's too intimate but it's still necessary because she can't deal with the eye contact right now.
Olivia's hand comes down between them and for a few seconds it just lingers at the top of Amanda's panties. The way she doesn't move her hand at first gives it away. This feels wrong. She wants to be gentle, go slow and make sure that she's ready. But just like Amanda had refrained from turning this into something it definitely isn't, Olivia does the same.
She pushes her hand inside the skimpy fabric and a shudder runs through both of them when Amanda is finally touched where she needs it the most, and Olivia finally gets to feel what kind of effect she has on the younger detective.
"Jesus." The brunette whispers, exposing just how shocked she is at how easily her fingers move through Amanda's drenched folds. "You're already close."
It's true. But she can't get herself to say anything. So she just nods vigorously instead before she bites down on Olivia's lip to let her know just how close she is.
She's panting now, as the woman beneath her continues to move her fingers from her entrance and up to her clit, pushing her closer and closer to her climax, all while expertly keeping her a few inches from the edge.
"You feel so good."
There's a tenderness in her voice that surprises both of them. What started out rough and hurried has suddenly turned into something else. Something neither of them has the emotional capacity to explore right now.
So she starts grinding her hips more eagerly, forcing them back on that destructive track that lead them to this moment in the first place.
"Just fuck me." Amanda says against Olivia's ear, and it sounds flat and mechanical.
But the brunette gets the message nonetheless and slips two fingers inside while pressing her palm firmly against her. Providing the perfect amount of friction that Amanda needs to finish what they've started.
She moves her head slightly, enough to align their lips, but without actually kissing her.
"Like this?" Olivia asks throatily.
"Yes... Yes. Like that."
Her grip on the couch tightens as she lets her tongue come out to meet Olivia's, and as they kiss open mouthed, she unravels on top of her.
She wants to keep her eyes closed, because she needs Olivia to be just anyone right now. A complete stranger, a quick fuck with absolutely no strings attached. So she doesn't get why, in the middle of her climax, her eyes fly open and immediately locks with the set of brown ones looking back at her.
And there it is.
The simultaneous gut wrenching realization that they have just made a huge, terrible mistake that they can never take back. So Amanda closes her eyes again and moans against the other woman's lips.
She feels tired immediately after her release, and lets her forehead rest against Olivia's. It feels like crossing a line, but she just can't help herself.
"Fuck." She mumbles, unsure if it's because of the physical pleasure or the emotional pain. She settles for both.
Olivia's fingers are still buried inside her and she waits for the brunette to move. But she doesn't. At least not right away. Instead she moves her free hand up to Amanda's face and gently places a few blonde strands behind her ear. "You ok?"
No. Definitely not ok.
"I'm... ok."
Eventually, she moves to get up, grateful that she's still in her underwear and not entirely exposed. Unlike Olivia, who quickly disappears into her bathroom only to emerge thirty seconds later covered only by a knee length silk robe.
She feels Olivia's eyes on her as she buttons her jeans and picks up her shirt from the floor.
"Look..." Amanda momentarily stops working on getting the shirt back on when she hears her voice, a little raspy from what they just did. "We have to see each other on Monday whether we want to or not, and we can choose to let things get awkward, or we can-"
"Pretend that this never happened."
"Exactly."
Being dressed again doesn't do much, but at least she regains a fraction of her self-composure. She grabs her jacket and moves towards the door, but as her hand closes around the handle, she turns around.
"We'll be fine, Liv."
"I know." Olivia says while attempting a smile, knowing full well that neither of them believes a single word just spoken.
A/N: I'll admit it. Angsty smut is my guilty pleasure.
Also: I need to clarify that when I said odd numbered chapters will be set to the present day, I meant from April 2021/S22E14. So that's where we kick things off in the next chapter.
