A/N: Quick trigger warning here for references of attempted sexual assault (Season 9, Episode 15 if you're interested).
Thirty minutes later and the buzzer interrupted the women's reminiscence about their latest case. Both still reeling from the revelation and saddened by the betrayal they had experienced, Olivia drained her glass of wine before getting to her feet to let the delivery person inside. In her absence from the couch, Amanda set about refilling their empty glasses, only to discover that the bottle of wine had been finished.
"There's more in the cupboard beside the fridge," Olivia said as she spotted their predicament.
Amanda grinned and hopped off the seat, making her way into Olivia's kitchen and taking a cursory look around before setting out to find the wine. It didn't take her long to locate the senior detective's not insignificant stash of mostly red wines. Her eyes widened as she took in the array before her. She was lucky if there was a lone bottle of beer in her fridge and she only had wine in the house for occasions.
With no knowledge of wines to guide her, Amanda reached for the first bottle she could see, figuring any which Olivia was keeping for a special occasion would be stacked neatly at the back. A final, appreciative glance at the collection and the blonde closed the cupboard, picking up the discarded corkscrew on the counter and opening the bottle.
By the time she returned to the living room, the pizza box was being carefully arranged on the elegant coffee table so as not to allow the piping hot contents to spill onto the floor.
"Oh, that smells amazing," Amanda said as she filled their wine glasses.
"It's a great pizzeria. That's one of the things I love most about Manhattan; the food is out of this world."
"Can't argue with you there. Atlanta had some decent joints, but nothing compared to this city. I'm slowly making my way through various recommendations from Fin and Nick. If I don't stop soon, I'm gonna have to be buying a whole new wardrobe."
With that, Amanda patted her non-existent stomach. Olivia rolled her eyes. "Don't be ridiculous. You're tiny. I, on the other hand." Olivia now grimaced at the mound of melted cheese they were about to dive into.
"You've got a great figure, Liv," Amanda said at once. "Anyway, listen to us. Two women, healthy and happy in their lives, sitting around complaining about our bodies. It's so wrong! I'm sorry I brought it up. Let's eat; we've both earned it and we deserve a treat."
After a moment, Olivia nodded and took her place beside the blonde. "You're right. We're being stupid. We're fit and able-bodied. We can't complain. But I can't help but compare myself to how I was when I first joined SVU, you know? Sometimes I shock myself with how much I've changed. My fitness has dropped in recent years, even though I try and keep it up with gym sessions."
"Liv, that's totally normal. You're older but you're wiser and more experienced and better able to help survivors. Who cares if you can't chase down a perp as often as you used to? That's why you've got Nick or me with you. We'll be your legs; you be the brain."
Olivia chuckled and reached for her first slice. "I'll take that exchange."
Amanda, who had already taken her first bite, moaned in appreciation as the flavour of the pizza exploded in her mouth. It also reminded her that she hadn't eaten for hours. And had been drinking on an empty stomach. "Oh this is so good. I don't even care about my waistline any more. I could eat this pizza and die happy."
"Well, I'm in agreement with you but please don't die right now."
"Oh yeah? Why not?"
"So much paperwork," Olivia said through a mouthful of pizza.
Amanda caught her eye and giggled. Olivia laughed too, taking a sip from her freshly topped up wine glass. "Oh, good choice," she said, looking with admiration at the bottle Amanda had placed on the edge of the coffee table.
"I mean, thanks but I just grabbed the first bottle I saw. You've got quite the collection."
"I like a variety," Olivia agreed. "It's the only part of my kitchen which is well stocked. You can always count on me to have wine rather than ingredients for a proper meal. I'm not exactly cooking up a storm in there most nights."
"Me neither. I don't have the time or the energy to cook. Take out suits me just fine. And a run in the morning means I don't feel too guilty."
"Do you run every day?" Olivia asked.
Amanda, who was now tucking into her second slice, nodded. "Mostly. It depends on work but as long as a case doesn't go too late or interrupt my morning, I can usually squeeze one in either before or after work. It helps me clear my head. Plus, I've always taken comfort in the fact that I'm quick. It's reassuring when I'm out late at night, alone."
"I get that," Olivia nodded. "Fight or flight. I think I'd always presumed I would be a fighter. Even though I know there's a third option, to freeze. Given my training, I always assumed if I found myself in a dangerous position, I'd be able to put up a good fight."
Amanda chewed her mouthful slowly, taking in what Olivia said. "But that wasn't what happened?"
This time it was Olivia's turn to pause. She finished her mouthful and put her half-eaten slice back on the greasy cardboard in front of her. Her mind drifted, unbidden, back to that dark space deep in the bowels of the prison. It was an experience she tried not to think about but which her subconscious served up far too often for her liking. Not a month went by when Olivia didn't jolt awake from a nightmare, tangled in her sheets and soaked in sweat, the face of the officer lingering on her retinas.
"No, I did try to fight back," she said quietly. "It kicked in to try and get away but at first I did comply. I could tell myself I was just upholding my undercover persona, but I think it was more than that. I did what he said. Plus I was cuffed so I couldn't do much anyway. But I did try to fight and I even got away. But when he … when he overpowered me, I gave up. I knew it was no use to fight any more. I knew if I did, he'd just hurt me even more. I remembered what I've said to so many people throughout my career; that they did what they were supposed to and survived. That's what I realised I needed to do. Survive."
A long, heavy silence filled the apartment. The pizza, half-eaten, lay forgotten on the coffee table. Amanda didn't know what to say. She was used to talking to survivors of sexual assault, but this was different. This was Olivia Benson. The woman she'd looked up to, whose career she'd admired from afar. Not that she felt that admiration diminish at all in light of this confession. But she had no idea how she should react. As her colleague, as a detective, as a friend. Because this was the Olivia Benson! And now she sat before her, vulnerable and raw, confessing a trauma and Amanda knew only too well how it felt to conceal and then admit a sexual assault. What was she supposed to say?
"I'm so sorry, Olivia," she murmured eventually. "I'm sorry that happened to you."
"Oh, I mean, nothing really happened. Fin got there, just before he … well, he didn't do anything to me aside from beat me up. Nothing happened. He didn't assault me."
"Olivia, I don't know exactly what happened to you but from what you've told me, that was assault," Amanda said softly.
But Olivia shook her head, reaching for more wine, splashing it carelessly into the glass, spilling several drops onto the table. "It wasn't. I wasn't raped."
"Ok but it was still a violent sexual assault. Even if there was no," Amanda hesitated before using a clinical term since their conversation seemed to have moved beyond the realm of work and towards something else, "penetration, it was still assault."
The brunette shrugged. "Whatever, it's in the past. It's done. He didn't succeed. I guess I just thought I'd have more fight in me, that I'd be able to stop it getting that far."
"Yeah, well, I thought I'd have more flight in me," Amanda said back, bitterness evident in her tone.
Olivia looked up, sensing an opening into a conversation she'd wanted to have for weeks, ever since the blonde slip her own experiences in that cold hospital corridor. "You said a while ago that something happened to you on the job. Was it … assault?"
At that, Amanda let out a scoff of incredulity. "Yeah, I guess you could say that."
Realisation dawned on Olivia as she saw the blonde reach for more pizza. "You were raped."
The words lingered in the air long after they'd faded from their speaker's lips. Beneath her ribs, Amanda felt her heartbeat quicken, the way it always did when that term was said in relation to her own experiences. She could feel her anxiety rising, throat dry, blood pounding in her ears as images flashed into her mind. She had to get out of there. She had to be alone. She couldn't think about it. She couldn't talk about it. She couldn't acknowledge it. It didn't happen.
With a wet slap, the slice of pizza which Amanda had chosen but forgotten about fell back to its box. "It's late, I should go."
Getting to her feet, Amanda made her way to the coat rack and began to shrug on her heavy winter coat before Olivia had even reacted.
"Amanda, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said anything. You don't have to leave."
"It's late," Amanda said, flicking her long blonde hair out from beneath the collar of her coat. "Frannie needs a walk. Thanks for the pizza, Liv. Tonight was … great."
Olivia, who was on her feet too at this point, made her way over to the woman who was now clipping her gun and shield back onto her waistband.
"Amanda, I'm sorry," Olivia said again. "Let me at least call you a cab. It's dark and the least I can do is make sure you get home safe. After all, that's how this evening started out, right?"
"I'll be fine. It's only a few blocks," Amanda said, stubbornly.
"Rollins," Olivia scolded, using her surname as a gentle reminder of her superiority when it came to the detective in a work situation. "Don't be silly, I'll call you a cab. It'll only take a few minutes."
"I said no."
Olivia's brown eyes widened at the snapped words, her fingers hovering over the illuminated screen of her phone. "Amanda -"
"Bye, Liv," the blonde said, opening the door as she spoke. "Thanks for the pizza. I'll see you tomorrow."
Before she could say another word, Olivia was left in her apartment, alone, with only the echo of the door slamming shut and her confused thoughts about how their evening had taken such a turn for company.
Two minutes later, on the street outside Olivia's building, Amanda swiped angrily at the hot tears which rolled down her cheeks before setting off towards her own apartment, coat pulled tight against the cold night air.
A/N: reviews are love!