A/N: Thank you so much for the reviews, follows, and favs from the first chapter! My traffic stats look promising too, so I'm glad that people are giving this story a chance even though we've barely seen Cynthia and Maria in the show. They're not even on the drop-down list for SVU characters (welp welp). I just want to respond to the guest reviewer who suggested that I write these like flashbacks between present time. I am doing that, as the date stamps would suggest. However, they aren't really flashbacks because Nick isn't actually thinking about them as this case is unfolding. He'd be so distracted! And that's really unprofessional, and Nick only does hot-tempered unprofessional, not absent-minded unprofessional. You'll come to understand why the Cynthia and Maria relationships are even mentioned at all later on, as the case unfolds and as we start to find out why he and Amanda had that fight. It's all about understanding Nick and why he thinks and acts a certain way around women.
Just a fair warning, I switched the rating to M because things got heated a little earlier than I expected (Oop). So this chapter may feature some content that may not be safe for reading on the morning commute.
Oh, and Bensaro friendship because that time Nick was pushing baby Noah on the swing gave me LIFE! I love these two as friends outside work. Please READ & REVIEW!
February 28, 2015
"Detective Amaro and Tutuola, SVU," Nick identified with the gold badge on his belt loop. He scanned the scene momentarily. There were two cop cars and an ambulance on the street, but New Yorkers casually went about their business as they headed to work. In the midst of all this organized chaos, a young woman was experiencing some turmoil of her own. Crouching on the street corner, the victim appeared distressed. Mascara stained her cheeks, her bold, red lipstick was smeared across her face, and her dark brown hair looked like a bird's nest. Nick reached for her shoulder, but the woman immediately recoiled.
"Ms. Rodriguez, you're safe now."
Her eyes grew wide, staring back and forth between him and Fin. "Safe?"
Nick shook his head. He'd been working at SVU for close to five years now, and he still sometimes managed to screw up his words. It was a lot easier dealing with the thugs they encountered in Narcotics. "I'm sorry, ma'am. The man who assaulted you –" He watched the woman blink back the tears. She tried to smooth her pencil skirt over her legs, but he could plainly see that the attacker had managed to rip her tights from the knees up. He could tell she was trying to appear strong amidst what had just happened to her in broad daylight, in the middle of the morning rush. "—the man who assaulted you – police chased after him down Seventh and apprehended him. We have him in holding. The EMT's will take you to the hospital, check for injuries, and conduct a rape kit exam."
Fin took over and continued to explain what would happen next. "Once the doctor clears you, we'll need you to come to the station and identify the assailant from a line-up."
"I just want to go home," her voice breaking like delicate glass across the concrete pavement.
Fin looked into the woman's eyes, "we'll make sure you get home safely after you identify him."
Vehemently shaking her head, the woman began to stand on her feet but her knees were shaky and she lost her balance. Nick quickly came to her aid as she landed square in his arms. He placed an arm around her waist and helped her take the steps towards the back of the ambulance. "Lena," he began, "can I call you Lena?"
She nodded as she was transferred to the arms of the EMT, who began to check her blood pressure.
"Lena, I promise you'll be home soon; but we need you to cooperate or else we can't charge the man who assaulted you."
Her lip quivered as she averted her gaze from Nick's probing eyes. She was starting a new admin assistant job downtown. It wasn't ideal. She always dreamed of working in publishing, but it was hard to get her foot in the door without the connections. This admin job would, at least, put her in the same building as one of New York's biggest publishing houses. Lena was so anxious; she left her apartment thirty minutes earlier than she was supposed to, hoping the walk would calm her nerves. The streets were rife with suits heading to work just like her. New heels clicked on the sidewalk with every agonizing step. She knew she should've broken in these discount Ivanka Trumps first, but she was determined to make a good impression.
Lena was listening to early-2000s Jennifer Lopez, hoping the upbeat melody would give her the confidence she needed. She didn't hear him call her name, not the first time and not the second time. She only felt the steel grip on her arm and the sudden pull into the dark alley. She tried to scream but his palm was big enough to cover the lower half of her face. The earphones were ripped from her ears. The guilty pleasure pop was replaced by the routine commotion on the streets, but even then she couldn't hear her own muffled cries.
Her eyes widened as the man's hood fell on his shoulders. Piercing blue eyes, a smattering of freckles on his nose, a familiar grin. She recognized him.
The air gave out and the blood pressure monitor loosened the hold around her arm. Lena looked up at Detective Amaro; the look on her face unyielding, "I don't want to press charges."
January 22, 2004
It was a bitch driving through the neighborhood. The snow from earlier in the day had piled up on the roads, and no one had come down to clear the streets. He parked his car on the driveway. The last thing he needed was some power-tripping traffic cop towing his car when he was preoccupied upstairs, with her. He jogged up the porch steps and pounded on the door. A silly grin played on his lips as Cynthia swung the door open.
It was the middle of winter and she was dressed in an oversized muscle shirt and a pair of flannel shorts. They didn't have air conditioning so it was a nightmare in the summer. The radiator knob had been broken for three winters now, so it was always scorching in there. She told him it worked out because her Ma hated the cold, and it made her feel like she was in Puerto Rico all year round. Cynthia pulled him inside. He was dressed in a Members Only jacket and low-slung jeans. The jacket was a secret gift from her; she said it made him look like he had more street cred. As much as Nick tried to pull off the look, being that he was UC and all, she still maintained that he looked too... caballero. She pulled off the black beanie from his head and shook off the ice that had clung to the wool.
"Is your Ma home?" his arms found their way around her waist. Cynthia shook her head and his smile got even bigger. He could look so sweet and dopey sometimes that she couldn't believe this was the same Carlos her brother trusted with his life. Nick dipped his head down and pressed his lips on hers to deliver a searing kiss. Antonio had him working as a driver all week, and it had been a few too many days since he had touched his novia hermosa.
He had seen her the night before, when they were all having dinner at Antonio's. He wasn't expecting her to be there, but there she was flanked between Rodrigo and Leon – two men who were at least three times her size. She looked so cute and he wished he could tell her that, maybe even show her that. Nick could look, but he couldn't touch.
"You need to make up for what you did last night."
She pouted innocently at him, "what do you mean?"
"Playing footsie with me under the dinner table?" He reminded her. Thank god for vinyl table cloths, because no one on that table needed to know that Cynthia's pedicured toes were pressing against his junk. Nick pushed her against the wall and dipped his head onto her shoulder. Nipping at the soft skin, he inhaled the scent of her coconut and lime body wash. He remembered that hot and heavy night with Cynthia. They showered together the next morning, before he had to drive uptown to her brother's house. Nick just walked past Leon in the hallway by the stairs when the older man stopped him in his tracks. He stuck his arm out and Nick was almost flung across the wall. Leon angled toward him and his nostrils flared, "you smell like a girl, Carlos."
Cynthia pressed her hips against his as she wrapped her arms around his neck. She craved the contact; it was all she could think about since that summer evening when Nick first kissed her. Being that her brother was who he was, it wasn't easy finding a guy who had the balls to step up and be worthy in her eyes, and most especially in Antonio's. Sure, her relationship with Carlos was a secret; but she knew when they day would come, Antonio would welcome the idea of his baby sister being with his right-hand man.
"But you like it when I'm naughty," she responded flirtatiously, gasping at the contact of his teeth on her shoulder blade. Nick's fingers trailed under her shirt, moving up to cup her full breasts.
"No bra?" he chuckled, his hot breath casting flames on her skin.
Cynthia pushed against him and, in the process, allowed some space to move around him. She wasted no time running up the stairs; Nick not too far behind her. Before they made it all the way up, he cornered her at the landing and captured her mouth in another kiss. Their tongues duelled before they both gasped for air, pressing their foreheads against each other. Nick lifted her up in one swift motion. She wrapped her legs around his waist and dug her heels on his back. Kissing him with intensity; she wanted to show him how much she missed him.
Nick carried her to her bedroom. It was small, just enough space to fit a double bed and a desk. It had been her childhood bedroom so the walls were still painted a pale pink, with a butterfly border running along the four walls. Cynthia had taken most of her posters down from her days reading teeny bopper magazines, but she still kept that poster of Leonardo Dicaprio on the inside of her closet door. He remembered teasing her about it when he discovered it back in October. After sex, Cynthia got out of bed and walked towards her closet to get a new pair of panties. She pulled the door wide open, and Nick's eyes widened when he saw Leonardo DiCaprio's piercing stare. It took him a second to overcome the shock before he roared in laughter. Cynthia simply stuck her tongue out at him before she got on her tip toes and pressed her lips on the poster. He recalled stretching across the bed and pulling her back in with him, "but can Leo do this?" he asked, lips grazing down her sternum, down her navel, before sinking between her thighs.
Tonight, he had missed her so much that he didn't think he could spend another second not deep inside her. He'd get to the foreplay later; foreplay didn't always have to be reserved for before sex. Nick knew she was insatiable. Her eyes were clouded in lust and she was doing that thing where she pushed her hair off her neck. He kissed the junction between her neck and shoulder blade. Cynthia loved it when he took her cues and knew just what do with them. He pressed her down on her bed and stroked her hair away from her face. She arched her back and pressed her hips against his hardening length. Reaching for his jeans, she started to unbuckle his belt, while he pulled her shorts off her long legs.
Unable to wait any longer, they both got to work, removing their shirts. Now, completely naked, Nick leaned forward and took her nipple into his mouth. He sucked on the hardened peak before blowing hot air against her goosefleshed skin. They sat up as she straddled him, rubbing her center against his hardness. Nick could feel her slick flesh and he wanted so badly to just get it over with, but he wasn't a careless man. Undercover or not, he always wrapped it up.
He stretched across the bed and reached for the drawer on her bedside table. He pulled out the box of condoms, but it was empty apart from a set of instructions he clearly did not need.
"Shit," he muttered. He rolled off the bed and searched for his discarded boxers. "I have some in the glove box of my car. Gimme a sec, I'll go grab 'em."
"Carlos," she pulled on his arm, "it's ok. I'm on the pill."
Nick looked at her with his boxers in his hand, his dick standing in attention, like it was a GPS pointing straight into its desired location. Cynthia's eyes were dark and full of unbridled desire and… wait, was she rubbing herself against her pillow?
"You sure?" he asked reluctantly. Even if his past girlfriends had assured him they were on the pill, he took the extra precaution to use condoms anyway. It was just a very Nick thing to do to avoid STDs or unwanted pregnancies at all costs. His friends teased him and called him paranoid; but he wasn't going to risk it. But at that moment, with Cynthia naked and imploring him the way she was grinding on that pillow; his mind was a foggy window, she was Rose, and he was prepared to be her Jack. She reached for him and he groaned at the feel of her silk fingers handling his length.
He knelt on the bed and cupped her jaw in his hands, kissing her ravenously. Nick urged her down on the bed and reached between her legs. Pressing on her sex, Nick captured the deep, guttural groan that fell between lips. His eyes flashed over hers before he thrust into her, hard and deep.
She cried out, "Carlos!"
But it wasn't his name.
February 28, 2015
Nick returned to the precinct prepared to face the wrath of Sergeant Olivia Benson.
"What the hell did you say to her to make her drop the charges?" He hadn't even reached his desk yet and Liv had already stormed out of her office, and gotten in his face. He normally didn't take this crap from anybody, not even former captains; but he never had the same relationship with his former captains the way he had it with Liv. Sometimes, people misconstrued it as something else; especially after his divorce and her break-up with Cassidy. But it was purely platonic. They were partners, they trusted each other, and they had each other's backs. Always.
He raised his arms up in the air and shook his head, "I didn't say anything. One minute she's crying hysterically, and the next she says she doesn't want to pursue it."
"Is Fin still with her at Bellevue?"
He bowed his head, "Yeah, she's getting the rape kit done now but there's no rush to process it unless she presses charges. It'll just go on the backlog."
"You don't think I know that?" Liv hissed. She sighed deeply before she ran her hand over her face. "Maybe Fin can convince her that it's worth pursuing. I mean, we already have the guy in holding, right?"
Nick shrugged off his winter coat and hung it over the back of his chair. "Yeah, I spoke to the uniforms on the scene. They said they saw Lena come out of the alley; she was crying and calling for help. When Officer Desmond approached her, she pointed to the man in the plaid jacket and grey hoodie, and said that he had just raped her. He was just standing there waiting for the crosswalk light to go on, but when he heard Lena's admission he took off on foot. The perp gave chase and Officer Brooks ran two blocks down Seventh until he was able to arrest him."
Liv nodded before she turned to Amanda, "What did you find on him?"
The blonde detective looked up from the computer and only made eye contact with her boss. "Thomas Fischer, 22. We found an Ohio driver's license on him. He has no hits on CODIS, and no criminal records." Amanda pulled out a sheet of paper from the printer and handed it over to Liv, "but I did find something interesting. He graduated from Fordham last spring. Same graduating class as the victim, Lena Rodriguez."
Nick raised his brows at the discovery. "So she knew her attacker? Maybe that's why she changed her mind about pressing charges."
Liv turned to her two detectives, "Nick, Amanda, get Fischer out of holding and ask him how he knows Lena. See if you can find a stronger connection than being in the same graduating class. There are over 8,000 undergrads at Fordham. There's got to be more than that." Liv marched back into her office and slammed the door behind her. Nick knew where her frustration was coming from. They had spent weeks working on a case of a 16 year-old girl gang-raped by a football team. They had the DNA evidence and the Snapchat screenshots, but the day before the trial, the girl's parents had successfully convinced her to drop the charges. They took the next flight out of New York, and moved to her grandmother's house in rural Iowa. Liv, being the captain of SVU, caught flack from the media for "being just as bad as the police departments in the Midwest."
It was a completely baseless and unfair comparison that no one in 1PP or the NYPD took seriously, but he still saw how much it affected her. Liv was strong and she tried not to pay attention to the media; but with it being the cover story on the Post, it was hard not to see it.
Nick looked over to Amanda, who still managed to keep her bright blue eyes away from his general direction. She was really pissed, but who could blame her after their fight? He wished he could just walk up to her and convince her to go back to the way things were. He missed her. His bed felt empty. His home didn't feel like his home anymore. But he knew they had reached a threshold, and there was no going back. One of two things could happen: they would talk and move forward, or their relationship - or whatever the hell it was that they were doing - would be completely obliterated. He had a sick feeling where things were headed.
"Hey," he called out. There was a softness in his voice, like he had briefly lost that native New Yorker edge. "I'mma go get Fischer."
Amanda looked up and finally acknowledged him with eyes so empty, so vacant of emotion it confirmed his worst fears. "I'll meet you at the interrogation room."