my baby's fly like a jet stream / high above the whole scene / loves me like I'm brand new
March, five years earlier.
Sonny made his way down the sidewalk, hunched over in his coat against the biting winter wind. He couldn't believe he had just spent three hours of his life on a date with his law school classmate - and every minute had been a special kind of torture. He had asked Lindsey out impulsively last week, after their study group had disbanded and they were alone in the library together. Attractive and intelligent, Sonny had assumed she would most likely reject him with the typical 'I have a boyfriend' excuse, but instead, she agreed. It was only over dinner that Sonny discovered that Lindsey's looks didn't make up for her intensely self-centered personality. By his second glass of wine, he had stopped listening to her. By his third, he texted Amanda while Lindsey was in the bathroom: You up?
She was, in fact, up. Amanda was awake more often than not; an infant required that of a person. Since Jesse had been born, Sonny spent an abnormal amount of time at Amanda's apartment. At first it was because he felt like he could be useful - her mother had abandoned her right when she needed her the most - but now it was more than that. Now, Sonny just liked being there. With her. For the past few months, they had spent many nights on her couch, talking, watching television and eating, tending to sweet little Jesse in between. In addition to being an extra set of hands, he was also her inside source: Amanda was still on maternity leave and wanted to be kept updated about what was happening at SVU. She pretended like her hiatus from the squad was slowly killing her, but Sonny knew that the time she had with Jesse was precious to her. Sometimes when he was at work, Amanda would text him photos or videos of the baby and he would smile privately, like Jesse was something he could be proud of, too.
The word 'crush' was juvenile, but that was sort of what his insides felt like whenever he was around Amanda - as if all of his organs were squeezing and twisting at the mere sight of her. Sonny had been quietly enamored with the blonde for at least a year. At first, Amanda had been abrasive and standoffish with him. Back then he assumed she wanted to make sure that he knew his place as the newest SVU detective. Even so, he kept talking to her, kept maintaining a sincere interest in her life, and one day things shifted. No, she wasn't warm and fuzzy; Sonny eventually learned that Amanda's heart was big but scarred by a difficult past. She was a lot of other things, though: passionate, funny, clever as hell...
Now things were different. They amount of time they spent together had less to do with Jesse and more to do with their genuine desire to be around one another. Sonny didn't know when that changed, but now Amanda Rollins knew more about his life than his own family did - and he knew a whole lot about hers, too. It just happened. He made her dinner, she finished the crossword puzzles he couldn't. He would text her about cases or recall some ridiculous Fin anecdote, she would call him and ask hey, how's your day? at ten in the morning like they hadn't just spent five hours together the night before. Sonny didn't know what any of it meant, but he knew he liked it.
Knocking at Amanda's door that night, Sonny heard her shout it's open! from somewhere inside of her apartment. He opened up the door to find her familiar space in disarray: there were toys, bottles, burp cloths and tiny little socks strewn everywhere. When she emerged from Jesse's room, she was empty-handed; the baby must have been sleeping. Amanda's bright blonde hair was free from its usual ponytail and hung wavy and loose around her shoulders. She wore a too-big Atlanta Braves t-shirt over leggings, a combination Sonny had seen a thousand times by now, but never got tired of.
"Hey," she greeted him.
He always had the urge to hug her. He never did it. "Hey. How's it goin'?" he replied casually.
She yawned. "S'alright." Barefoot, she padded into the kitchen. "How was your date?"
"It was good," Sonny lied, sinking down onto her couch in the adjoining living room. Frannie sniffed him.
"Good, huh?" Amanda pulled open the fridge.
"Yeah."
"Couldn't have been that good."
"Why do you say that?"
She turned around and eyed him with a smirk. "'Cause you're here with me and an infant instead of trying to get into her pants."
"Maybe I'm just a gentleman," Sonny retorted.
She snorted. "'K." Turning back to the fridge, she asked, "y'want a beer?"
"I'd love one," he said, hoping that was the end of her line of questioning.
Amanda returned to his side with two opened bottles, one of which she handed to him. She sunk down onto the couch and curled her legs beneath her. She was close, but not too close. "She was boring, wasn't she?" she mused.
He raised an eyebrow and played dumb: "who?"
"Your date."
"I mean, no, she was fine."
"She's in law school too, right?"
"Yeah. She's in my Law and Social Justice class."
"Does she wanna help people?" Amanda simpered, waggling her eyebrows.
"I think she just wants to make a lotta money," Sonny admitted.
"Charming," she mumbled sarcastically into her beer.
"She sucked, alright?" he conceded, exasperated. "It was a bad date. Well, actually, I think she had a good time 'cause I let her talk about herself for two hours..."
When Sonny looked over at Amanda, she appeared smug. Had she been sitting at home, wondering about Lindsey? Had she hoped he was having a terrible time? His heart leapt in his chest at the idea of her pining over him - instead of the other way around.
"Sorry," she eventually sighed insincerely. Her blue eyes flickered over his face in silence before she smiled. "Your hair looks good."
"Thanks," he mumbled into his bottle, willing his cheeks not to turn pink.
"Let's watch something," Amanda suggested, grabbing the remote from the coffee table. "We have, like, two hours before Jesse's up and wailin' for food." She pulled the fuzzy throw off of the back of the couch and tossed it over them both haphazardly. "Bachelor in Paradise is on. I'm so behind."
Sonny really fucking hated reality television. What he did not hate, however, was the easy way she shared her blanket and how she had shifted just an inch closer to him on the couch. "Okay, sure."
Amanda successfully stayed awake until she finished her beer. He pretended to watch the screen, but out of the corner of his gaze, Sonny saw her heavy eyelids flicker. Gradually, she began to slump over - her knees curled up beneath the blanket, the side of her head encountering his shoulder. For a minute, he sat frozen, unsure of what to do. She was definitely asleep: her breathing was rhythmic, her muscles were slack. It was nice, except his arm was caught awkwardly between their bodies and he wanted to move it.
Holding his breath, Sonny slowly and carefully slid his arm back and around Amanda, his hand boldly resting on the small of her back. He winced when he felt her shift, but all she did was curl closer to him. Exhaling, he looked down at her. Her hair smelled like coconut and she had a very faint smattering of freckles across her little nose and pink cheeks. Her well-practiced facade of harshness was gone. Sleeping, Amanda was soft and vulnerable, and for the moment - his.
Amanda sat at a small corner table at Black Fox Coffee Company, waiting for Sonny to meet her on his break. She had already gotten their drinks: for her, a flat white, for him, a cold brew coffee with an excessive amount of cream and sugar. She toyed with the airy foam with her spoon, ruining the delicate design the barista had created. She felt a hand graze her shoulder and arm, and when she looked up, Sonny was brushing past her.
"Hey, babe. How'd it go?" Sonny asked her breathlessly as he sunk down into the chair across from her. He seemed distracted; he must have been having a busy day.
She went back to fiddling with her spoon. "I walked out."
He went to lift his glass to his mouth, but paused half way, very obviously shocked. "You did what?"
"I walked out," Amanda repeated before taking a sip of her coffee.
"Amanda!" he exclaimed, sounding every bit the chastising parent.
"I'm not gonna just sit there and take Draper's bullshit," she retorted irritably.
"It's an internal investigation," Sonny reminded her wearily. "You don't have a choice."
"I do have a choice. And I chose not to tolerate it," she said haughtily. She leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms over her chest. "You would think I beat the girl up or something. It's a total overreaction. Y'know what I heard? I heard that back in the day, Liv's old partner, Stabler, got away with doing way more than I ever did."
"Okay, but, it's not 'back in the day.' It's you, it's right now, and Draper can take your shield," he insisted.
She rolled her eyes. "I'd like to see him try."
"Amanda, stop. Jesus Christ, just stop," Sonny blurted. "You have got to stop thinkin' like your pride is all that matters here." He leaned in, his finger jabbing at the surface of the table as he spoke. "We have a mortgage and two kids. Not to mention, this is your career we're talkin' about, something you've been workin' on since you were twenty-two years old. All of these very important things hinge on how you respond to IAB."
She hadn't expected such a passionate outburst from him. Her cheeks began to heat up, embarrassed at how blatantly he had called her out. Clenching her jaw, she asked him through gritted teeth, "are you saying I'm being selfish?"
He took a swallow of coffee. "A little bit, yeah."
Ouch. Sonny was nothing if not honest. Amanda gave him her iciest glare, hoping that would convince him to take it back. "I see."
"I strongly suggest you go back to the office, apologize, and finish the interview," he went on levelly, seemingly immune to her wordless attempt at cowing him.
"Are you my husband or my lawyer?" she scoffed.
Mirroring her posture, Sonny crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back in his chair. "Right now? I'm both."
Her walk back into the IAB offices was slow and painful. Amanda sat outside of Sergeant Draper's closed door, fidgeting. She did not want to be there, but as Sonny had so blatantly pointed out, this wasn't about her ego. She pretended like she was resentful of him, but really, it was herself she was annoyed with.
"Rollins, come in," Draper said curtly once he appeared in his doorway.
Amanda walked into his office, head down, and sat down in front of his desk. She picked at a hangnail around her thumb. "I, uh. I want to..." God, I hate this shit. And I really hate when Sonny is right. "I want to apologize for walking out."
"Okay." Draper seemed unconvinced as he returned to his seat behind his desk.
"And I'd like to talk about the terms of my suspension," she added steadily, meeting his eyes.
"You think that after that display, I'm going to reconsider your suspension?" he laughed.
"Look, I know I come off as... well, I can be aggressive. Impulsive. It's... those aren't my best attributes," Amanda told him quickly. She sighed and slumped her shoulders in defeat. "Can I just be... real with you, for a second?"
Leaning back in his chair, Draper eyed her. "I'm listening."
"I've got two kids. Jesse, she's five, and Luca, he's almost fifteen months old. But my oldest, she got in trouble a few weeks ago for clockin' some kid in the face on the playground. I was so mad at her, I said something like, 'you don't solve problems by hitting people.' That's what I want to teach my kids, that violence doesn't solve anything. Then I turn around and I... do what I did," she rambled sheepishly. She almost couldn't believe she was being so honest with somebody at IAB, but she was hoping some context would help Draper understand that her actions weren't malicious. "I've been having a, well, a hard time lately and I took it out on a perp because she... she struck a particular nerve. It didn't solve anything. More than anything, I'm really embarrassed."
For a few minutes, he watched her in agonizing silence before he finally asked, "may I be real with you?"
Amanda nodded. "Yeah."
"Lieutenant Benson speaks highly of you," Draper began. "You are an asset at SVU; your passion for your work is obvious. I'm not looking to take one of NYPD's finest out of commission. But you have to understand that in this current political climate, the police are under an immense amount of scrutiny. Maybe in the past we could have turned a blind eye to something like this, but not now." He sighed, looking almost pained. "Two weeks. You can go back to work in two weeks. That's the best I can do."
"He looked beyond the thorn bushes, out into the big dark night. 'Nothing could be farther than the sky,'" Amanda read to Luca from Guess How Much I Love You, his warm, sleepy body curled in her lap as she sat in the chair in his room. Out of all of the books she had amassed with both of her kids, this was one of her favorites. She never imagined that she would ever become a connoisseur of children's literature, but with countless bedtimes to organize, it was inevitable. Luca liked the story, too; when he was more awake he would eagerly point at the illustrations of the leaping bunnies. Now, he was too tired to do anything but listen. "'I love you right up to the moon,' Little Nutbrown Hare said, and closed his eyes."
Glancing down, Luca was contentedly sucking his thumb, his eyelids flickering but not yet completely closed. Sonny's mother was always commenting on the little boy's habit, moaning about how Amanda and Sonny would be paying for braces if they didn't redirect Luca's self-soothing. Amanda didn't care: he was a child - no, a baby - and he was healthy and happy with his thumb in his mouth. "'Oh, that's far,' said Big Nutbrown Hare. 'That is very, very far,'" she continued softly, carefully turning the page. "Big Nutbrown Hare settled Little Nutbrown Hare into his bed of leaves." Her lips grazed the top of Luca's head as she murmured into his blonde hair, "he leaned over and kissed him goodnight. Then he lay down close by, and whispered with a smile, 'I love you right up to the moon - and back.' The end."
Amanda closed the book and tucked it against her side. "I love you right up to the moon and back," she repeated quietly with a little smile, head tilted slightly so she could look at Luca's face.
"Me too," came Sonny's quiet voice from the other side of the room.
She looked up at see him leaned against the door frame, smiling; she didn't know how long he had been standing there, but she assumed he had just gotten home from work. She grinned. "Hey."
He took a few long strides over to the chair she was in, then leaned down to give her a kiss. "Hi."
"Say 'night-night,'" Amanda gently prompted Luca.
Luca gave a tired wave up to his father with his free hand and mumbled something unintelligible.
"Night-night, buddy," Sonny told him, leaning down farther and using a hand to give the baby's back a comforting rub.
Carefully, Amanda stood up to carry Luca over to his crib. She gave the side of his face a kiss before she set him onto the mattress amid stuffed animals and the fuzzy blue blanket emblazoned with his initials that Sonny's mother had given him when he was born. When she was satisfied that he wouldn't make a fuss, Amanda slipped out of his bedroom with Sonny close behind her. Alone in their room together, she wrapped her arms around his torso and hugged him tightly.
"What's this for?" he chuckled, his arms encircling her.
"Can't I just hug you?" she mumbled defensively into the fabric of his shirt.
"What did you do?" Sonny asked suspiciously.
"Nothing!" Still holding on to him, she leaned back to look at him with wide, innocent eyes. "I just... I did what you said and I went back to IAB and apologized," she admitted.
Sonny raised an eyebrow. "Yeah?"
"Draper agreed to only suspend me for two weeks."
"Sounds a little more reasonable."
"Yeah. So... thanks for givin' me a little... kick in the ass," she mumbled sheepishly.
"I only did it 'cause I happen to love your ass," he explained with a smirk, a hand sliding downward to squeeze that particular part of her.
Amanda grinned. "I know." Standing up on her toes, she kissed him. "I love you."
"I love you." His hand gave her a pat. "You think you're gonna be able to tolerate hangin' out at home for two weeks?"
"I'll try," she sighed.
On her knees on the wood floor at Yoga Agora, Amanda carefully rolled up her teal green mat. She was dripping with sweat; the temperature of the studio had reached one hundred and five degrees. While the heat made for a challenging workout, after class was through, Amanda felt loose and relaxed. Upright again, she threaded her damp ponytail through the back of her baseball cap and zipped herself back inside the too-big gray hoodie she had stolen from Sonny. She was one of the last to leave the room, but since she didn't have to go to work, she wasn't in a special hurry.
"Amanda!" a familiar voice called once she was out in the lobby.
She paused to see another teacher of hers, Cora, waving her over to talk. Amanda had been taking Cora's classes for a few years now; she was young but knowledgeable and kind. Turning around, she walked over to the desk where her teacher was lingering.
"Hey," Amanda said, smiling giving her a hug. "Where've you been?"
"I was at a conference on the west coast, then this amazing retreat in Peru," Cora explained enthusiastically. "I just got back two days ago."
"Wow. Awesome," she breathed.
Cora's expression turned serious. "Did you just take Linda's Bikram class?"
"Yeah," Amanda said with an eager nod. "It was great."
"You really shouldn't do hot yoga when you're pregnant!" she exclaimed.
It felt like a leaden anchor had dropped right into the pit of Amanda's stomach. She hadn't seen Cora since before she had lost the baby and her baggy sweatshirt didn't give any indication that her abdomen was taut and flat again. Amanda didn't know what to say, but her face must have been enough of an indicator, because Cora appeared instantly horrified.
"Oh, I, um, I didn't know that - wow, I'm really sorry, I really didn't-" Cora stammered, her face turning bright red with embarrassment.
"It's okay," Amanda interrupted with a tight, forced smile.
"I am so sorry," she moaned.
"I gotta get goin'. Nice seeing you, though," Amanda lied.
Death of Casey Turner: Blame Game Begins, read the online CNN article. Submerged up to her shoulders in bubbles, Amanda's eyes flickered over the screen of her phone as she relaxed in her oversized bath tub. To hear police and prosecutors tell it, Michael Shaffer killed three-and-a-half-year-old Casey - perhaps by repeatedly punching her in the stomach, perhaps by suffocating her - and Ayla Turned helped him dispose of the body. They both stand charged in her murder. Lawyers for Shaffer and Turner present starkly different accounts: Shaffer alleges Turner told him Casey was in state custody and he had no reason to doubt her until police informed him Casey was dead, while Turner claims Shaffer killed the girl and then injected Turner with heroin, threatening to kill her if she tried to contact police.
"What lying sacks of shit," Amanda mumbled, taking a sip from the glass of red wine that rested on the edge of the tub. As she continued to scroll, she contemplated texting Barba, anxious for inside information about the trial, resentful that she had a week left of sitting on the sidelines. The ADA probably wouldn't be inclined to leak details to a suspended detective, though - he never had been a fan of her investigation tactics, unless they directly benefited him, of course. No doubt he had heard about her outburst; no doubt he deemed it classless.
"I see your SVU hiatus is treatin' you well," grumbled Sonny as he appeared in the doorway of the bathroom.
Amanda looked up from her phone and rolled her eyes at his disgruntled expression. "You wanna come in?" she offered sweetly.
He began to peel off layers: first his gray suit jacket, then his vest. "You know I think baths are stupid."
"But I'm naked under here," she reminded him with a seductive smirk.
"That is tempting..." he murmured, waggling his eyebrows.
"It's nice and warm," she went on. "It'll make your back feel better, old man."
"My back isn't botherin' me today," Sonny insisted.
"It'll make me happy," she tried.
He gave her a pointed look.
She heaved a sigh. "You go to court today?"
Sonny sat on the edge of the tub and glanced over his shoulder at her. "No, I did not."
"You talk to Barba?" she pressed.
He took a sip of her wine and asked sarcastically, "what, you mean, in all my free time?"
"Ugh," Amanda huffed.
"Can we talk about somethin' else besides this dead kid, please?" he pleaded.
Amanda scowled. When he put it like that, she was reminded that maybe the subject matter wasn't the most appropriate for casual evening conversation, not even between two detectives. Everybody needed a break - she just wished she hadn't been forced to take hers.
"Jesse was missin' you tonight," she offered, toying with some bubbles.
"How come?" he asked curiously.
"She said I don't tuck her in right." She rolled her eyes, but was smiling.
"It's an art," Sonny replied haughtily. He began to get up. "I'll go say goodnight to her."
"No..." she whined childishly. "Stay with me."
He raised his eyebrows and sat back down.
"It gets kinda lonely, not going to work," she mumbled, reaching a hand out to rest on his thigh.
"Lonely, huh?" he repeated with a smirk.
"Mhm," Amanda hummed. She shifted so she was leaned up against the edge of the bath, blinking innocently up at Sonny before she flicked a wad of suds toward him. They landed on his sleeve.
"Hey!" he yelped, jumping. "What do you think you're doin'?"
"Nothin'," she replied sweetly.
Scowling but obviously fighting a grin, Sonny quickly scooped up a palm full of bubbles and slathered them onto her face in retaliation.
"Hey!" she sputtered, moving away from him while using the backs of her hands to rub soap away from her eyes.
When she blinked him back into focus, he looked smug. Too smug.
Sliding toward him again, Amanda reached up, wrapped her wet arms around his clothed torso and pulled him backward. Caught off guard, Sonny couldn't keep his balance on the edge of the tub - and fell back into the water with a substantial splash. "Amanda!" he hollered, limbs flailing.
"Oopsie daisy," she cooed, all Georgia peach before she started laughing uncontrollably. She maneuvered herself to straddle him in the water with a smirk. "Looks like you're takin' a bath whether you wanted to or not."
