A/N: Thank you for the initial interest in this story. I have been a fan of SVU for years and have seen every episode at least 5 times, series 13 present countless more, of course! However, let me just preface this chapter by saying that I agree with recent observations that the Law and Order franchise has played its part in idolising the police and that in the current climate, I do not wish to contribute to this. I am British and our police service here reflects the structural racism across most institutions in this country which are mirrored in the US. My story will centre around Olivia and Amanda, with little to no reference to specific cases or the police, outside of what is necessary to advance their relationship. With that said, on we go.
Amanda wasn't sure what she was expecting when she stepped through the door into Olivia's apartment but it wasn't what she saw. As the brunette set her keys and handbag down on the side table, Amanda looked around the space, gawping.
"It's not much, but it's home," Olivia said, turning to see the younger woman taking in her apartment.
"It's amazing, Liv," Amanda said, walking over to look out of the floor to ceiling window which overlooked the city. They were only on the seventh floor but due to the lower buildings on the streets beyond, Olivia's apartment had a stunning view. Beyond the silhouettes of buildings several streets over, the darkening sky still held the pale pink warmth of the sun.
Olivia had made her way to stand beside the blonde. "Yes, I suppose I can't complain."
Looking sideways at her superior, Amanda let out a short laugh. "This is the nicest apartment I've seen in this city. If you describe this as 'not much', I'm never inviting you back to mine."
"Don't say that," Olivia chastised. "I'm sure your place is great."
"It's nothing compared to this," Amanda said, shrugging out of her coat as she grew accustomed to the temperature inside the apartment, the bite of the winter New York streets left far below them.
Taking her guest's coat, Olivia asked Amanda's wine preference and then set about pouring out two generous glasses of red. After the week they'd had, both women deserved a little indulgence.
As she busied herself in the kitchen, Amanda settled on the couch, unclipping her gun from her hip and tossing both it and her shield onto the coffee table. She always felt a little lighter when she shucked the equipment; the pressure and responsibility abated for a time. When she put them on each morning, she felt empowered but she couldn't deny it was often a relief to shed them at the end of a long shift.
"Here you go," Olivia said, passing Amanda her glass and setting her own on the coffee table before retreating to collect the bowl of olives which she'd managed to source from the depths of her fridge at a vague attempt at nibbles. Her cupboards were well and truly bare.
"Thanks," Amanda said. "Cheers."
The sides of their glasses tapped lightly together, both women taking a generous gulp of the crimson liquid. Olivia pursed her lips a little as she swirled the wine around the glass.
"Consider yourself a sommelier, do you?" Amanda asked, watching the action.
"I know what I like," Olivia shrugged. "I wouldn't say I was an expert but this one needs to breathe a little." She leaned forwards, placing her glass on a coaster and instead picking up the olives. She handed the bowl to Amanda first who took one and popped it into her mouth.
"I'm far less sophisticated," Amanda said once she'd swallowed. "White or red, beer, spirits. I'll drink anything you serve me."
"Cheap date, huh?" Olivia teased.
Amanda grinned broadly. "And proud of it. I don't need someone to splash the cash to woo me. Just treat me good and be honest, that's all I ask."
"So, if it's not too personal a question," Olivia began and with a nod from Amanda, continued, "are you 'out' at work? I mean, I know I didn't know before this evening but that's on me. I've been in my own little world since Elliot left. You said Nick knows. Did you tell him?"
"I don't try to hide it," Amanda replied. "If it comes up, I'll tell people. It's not something I announce out of the blue but only because I don't think it's anyone's business and I'd feel that if I was dating men or women. Nick and I were drinking one evening after work and I starting flirting with some chick at the bar. That's why he knows. I told Fin when he mentioned Ken. Now you. If Cragen or Munch asked, I'd tell them too but so far, our work relationships haven't covered sexuality. What about you? Do people know you're bisexual?"
"Yes, but like you, it was never an announcement. I try and keep my work and personal lives separate although I must admit I've failed to do so far too often. You'd think I'd learn since none of those relationships have ended well. But when you work as much as we do, I guess office romances are inevitable."
Amanda nodded her agreement slowly at that. There was a question on the tip of her tongue but she decided against asking it, at least not yet.
"So, you dodged the question earlier. How long have you been working SVU?"
"Urgh, I hate thinking about this. It makes me feel so old!"
"You're not old," Amanda protested.
"Compared to you I am," Olivia pointed out. "You're, what, twenty-six?"
"Thanks for the flattery. I know you know exactly how old I am."
Olivia frowned. "How would I know that?"
"Are you going to deny looking into my service record? Come on, Liv. A cop like you needs to know who's joined her squad. I know you looked me up and went through my file."
Olivia had the good grace to blush. "Sorry, I just … you're right, I need to know who I'm working with. I need to know I can trust those who are around me."
"And, can you?"
"I think so," Olivia nodded. "You came with glowing recommendations. You certainly made an impression down in Georgia. Atlanta PD seems to have lost a great cop. But their loss is our gain. And for the record, I might have looked you up but I can't remember your birthday. So saying you were twenty-six wasn't flattery, it was an honest guess."
"Well, you go right to the top of my favourite colleague list," Amanda beamed. "I'm thirty-two next year."
"Out of interest, who was at the top of your favourite colleague list before I bumped them off the top?"
Amanda laughed and took another glug of wine. "Now that would be telling, Detective."
The fluttering in Olivia's stomach at the use of her title made the woman shift slightly on the couch, uncrossing her legs and reaching for her wine which had been sat for five minutes now. She drank from it once more, noting as she did that the flavours had opened up thanks to the aeration.
"So, are you going to tell me how long you've been at SVU or am I going to have to guess?"
"Almost fifteen years," Olivia admitted. "Most of my career. I moved a couple of years after making detective."
"And I know it's rude to ask a lady her age," Amanda pressed gently.
"I'd hardly call myself a lady. I joined when I was thirty. I'll be turning forty-five next week," Olivia said.
"Oh, are you having a party?" Amanda asked, eyes lighting up in excitement.
Olivia rolled her eyes at the juvenile display. "I may not be a lady but I'm not a kid either. I don't do birthday celebrations."
"Aw come on, it'll be fun. We can go out for a meal, drinks. Do you have a favourite place in New York?"
"It's really not my thing, Amanda. I don't want to celebrate my birthday."
"Don't be such a spoilsport. We can get the squad together, have some cocktails -"
"I said no."
Pale blue eyes widened at the snapped words. Olivia's lips pursed but she ducked her head, clearly embarrassed at the way she had reacted.
"I'm sorry," Amanda said after a moment's silence. "I didn't mean to push you. It's your birthday, of course we don't have to do anything if you don't want to."
Olivia sighed and placed her wine glass on the table. "No, I'm sorry. I know you didn't mean anything by it. I shouldn't have bitten your head off. Just, birthdays weren't really a big deal in our house. My mom never made a fuss about my birthday and so I don't either. Plus, it's so close to Christmas it feels like there are already endless parties going on. I don't want to add another obligation to people's busy schedules."
"Ok, I get it," Amanda said quietly. "But, for the record, I wouldn't see a drink with you for your birthday as an obligation. I'd see it as an honour. Just so you know."
The two women fell quiet again. Amanda was reticent to start another conversation. There was something in the way the woman had reacted which reminded her that she didn't know the brunette well at all yet. And while she wanted to get to know her superior, she didn't want to cross a professional boundary and she certainly didn't want to push. So she backed off, ceding the conversation to Olivia.
Meanwhile, Olivia was lost in memories of her childhood birthdays. Tears, screaming, empty bottles thrown across the room. While for most children their birthdays were an annual celebration, hers was mired in pain. For Olivia's mother, the thirteenth of December memorialised not the birth of her daughter but the trauma of her sexual assault. Marking it with balloons and cake was never an option and for the most part, Olivia's birthdays had passed with a handful of presents and barely a mention. Even over a decade after her mother's death, she couldn't find it in herself to celebrate.
"Um, do you want to order take out?" Olivia asked when she realised that Amanda hadn't spoken in close to a minute.
"Sure. What do you fancy?"
"You mentioned pizza? That's fine with me," Olivia replied. "There's a great place around the corner, I'll pull up the menu."
The next five minutes were spent deliberating over which toppings to order, acting as a conversational amuse-bouche. By the time she'd submitted the payment via the delivery app, Olivia had almost forgotten about the mention of her birthday.
Pouring them both more wine, Olivia also toed off her boots and stacked them neatly in the corner.
"You can get changed if you want," Amanda offered as Olivia readjusted her belt which had been digging lightly into her hip.
"Excuse me?"
"Into something more comfortable," she clarified. "We're off duty, right? If you wanna get changed, I can entertain myself for five minutes."
"Are you sure? Do you want to borrow some sweats or something too?"
"Nah, I'm good thanks. But you go ahead."
Olivia nodded and headed to her bedroom, leaving Amanda alone to peruse her living room. As she was rummaging through her closet in just her underwear, Olivia felt a tingle of panic. What should she wear? Usually after a long case she'd get home and change into her ratty old yoga pants and an oversized hoodie to curl up in front of the TV. But something made her hesitate. She didn't want to wear such an outfit in front of Amanda. Why, she wasn't sure. But instead she reached for some soft jeans and pulled a white tank, then a knitted sweater over her head. Still comfy but much more presentable than her usual attire.
With her discarded work clothes tossed into the laundry hamper, she returned to the lounge, tucking her hair behind her ears and nothing as she did so that it was longer than it had been in years.
"Are you snooping?" she asked when she spotted the blonde.
Amanda shot back from the bookshelf along which she had been trailing a finger, pale cheeks flushing beet red. "No!" she protested even though the smile on Olivia's face told her the superior detective was teasing her. "Just looking. I left most of my books back at my mama's house. Haven't got much time to read up here but I miss my books."
"Borrow anything you like," Olivia offered, sitting back down on the couch and curling her legs underneath her. She was suddenly grateful that Amanda had suggested she change into something more comfortable. It did make a real difference.
"You read a lot?"
"I try," Olivia nodded. "But it's hard with our hours, right?"
"Yeah, I wish I could read more. Sometimes on my day off I don't even leave my bed except to take my dog for a walk and just lie under the covers and read and read and read."
Ignoring the image of Amanda snuggled in bed with a book which her brain oh so helpfully supplied, Olivia asked; "you have a dog?"
"Yeah, Frannie. She's a rescue. I've had her for about four months now. Got her just after I moved up here. It's nice to have her to come home to. I hate returning to an empty apartment." Olivia's face fell just as Amanda stuttered to cover her mistake. "I mean, I don't mean like … it's different for me. I'm new to the city. No friends. No family. I just -"
"I get it," Olivia interrupted, putting the woman out of her misery. "I don't like coming home to an empty apartment either. Sometimes I think that's why I work so much. Ironically, when I am in a relationship, I can't seem to pull back and that's usually what leads to the break up. Almost forty-five years on this earth and I still don't think I've mastered the dating scene."
"Me neither," Amanda replied. "But I haven't given up hope that I'll get it right one day."
At the echo of her own words earlier in the precinct, Olivia couldn't help but smile.
"I'm sure you'll meet someone soon," she said.
"How? I'm always at work and you just said yourself that workplace romances always end badly."
"Maybe. But maybe I've not given up hope that things will change," Olivia replied, her eyes lingering for a moment too long on those piercing blue eyes before she reached for her wine and took another healthy swig.
A/N: I hope you're enjoying it. I've got loads of completed AU fics for SwanQueen. You don't need to have watched OUAT to read any of them and none of the big ones (they all have alliterative titles) are based in a magical world – just good old fashioned US of A (or Britain)!