AN: ALERT! As I said last chapter, this quick lil update has *nothing* to do with the ridiculous saga I've created. Consider it a suspense tactic ;-) but somebody requested a one-shot of the aftermath of whatever that Rollisi was in "Intent" last Wednesday and I felt inspired to try. We'll be back to our regularly scheduled Rollins-Carisi family drama for the next chapter!
I know that it's hard to give up your cards / and show me what's underneath / we've all got our scars over our hearts / but that ain't gonna make me leave
We have to talk.
Amanda's thumb hovered over the 'send' key before pressing it. It was an ominous message, but an honest one. Things between she and Sonny had been awkward for the past week since they had returned to New York City from West Virginia. She had employed her usual tactic in an effort to get things to shift back to normal - icy cynicism disguised as confidence - but it hadn't seemed to work. Now, it was all she could think about; it kept her up at night. For years, Amanda had tossed Sonny bits and pieces of her feelings like breadcrumbs. He had followed the trail all the way to her dingy motel room, pink-cheeked and hopeful, but found that it only led to the same flighty, unsure woman he had met when he had first joined SVU. Nothing had changed and she did not want him.
Amanda did not want him.
She needed him.
It was precious to her, whatever it was that they shared. It was a relationship unlike anything Amanda had ever experienced before and sometimes she caught herself hoping Sonny felt that way, too. She remembered exactly when their dynamic had shifted - at least in her own head. Four years ago she and Amaro had been trailing Sonny as he drove undercover in a van, following a sex trafficking suspect. He'll lose him, Nick had declared irritably from the driver's seat next to Amanda. Give Carisi a break, she had blurted in response, stung by Nick's comment even though it had absolutely nothing to do with her.
She wasn't an idiot: Amanda had known for awhile that Sonny had feelings for her outside of their friendship and role as partners. He was obvious. He was also so terrifyingly good that she was convinced that after the haze of lust cleared, he would see her for what she really was: bad. Damaged. Reckless. To keep Sonny at arm's length was Amanda's pathetic gesture of selflessness, depriving herself of what she desired for the sake of preserving Sonny's soft heart. She yearned to explain it all to him, to admit that she didn't know what to do with his kindness and honesty or the way he made her feel beautiful because she was smart and strong, not just blonde-haired and blue-eyed. Instead, lately every time they spoke something crass and defensive came out of Amanda's mouth and it scared her. Had she guarded her heart so fiercely for so long that she had forgotten how to listen to it?
About what? Sonny replied a few minutes later.
Quick thumbs sent back: West Virginia...
Ok. When?
Now.
Now? Where?
My place. Jesse is asleep.
Ok.
Amanda tossed her phone onto the couch before she skittered into her bedroom, tripping over one of Jesse's dolls in the process. She studied herself in her mirror: no make-up, wearing leggings and a white t-shirt. She prodded at the crown of her head in a feeble attempt at making her hair look better. It didn't do much, so she arranged her side-swept bangs into place carefully. Should she put mascara on? Or maybe some real pants? Squeezing her eyes shut, Amanda shook her head to quiet her thoughts. Sonny would never believe she was lounging around all dressed up; he had spent way too much time with her off the clock.
She moved from the bed, to the couch, to pacing in the kitchen in the half hour it took for her doorbell to ring. Amanda walked the few paces to the front of her apartment slowly before answering the door. Don't be mean, be honest, she kept telling herself. Just be honest.
Hands shoved into the pockets of his leather jacket, Sonny seemed to be studying his sneakers or something particularly interesting on the hallway carpet in the second before he realized that the door had opened. Lifting his head, he gave her a smile that didn't reach his eyes. "Hey."
"Hey." Amanda stepped aside. "Come in."
He did. He sat down on her couch and took off his coat, but he slung it over his knee like he was anticipating having to make a hasty exit. Frannie sniffed him curiously, familiar with his scent by now. "So..."
"So..." she echoed as she sat carefully beside him.
"What's up?" he asked lightly.
"I wanted to talk to you."
"Yeah, I figured that part out."
"Well, I, I thought maybe last week I came off a little..."
"A little..."
"A little cold. Maybe."
"Okay..."
She cleared her throat, suddenly disoriented by Sonny's apparent lack of enthusiasm for the conversation. She sat up straighter and arranged her face, never one to be caught vulnerable. So much for spilling her guts. "I just, I don't care what people think of me," Amanda concluded briskly.
He relaxed back into her couch, appearing almost bored. "Right."
"But I just thought I should apologize," she went on hastily. "Y'know. For how I talked to you. Not for what I did, because I can do whatever I want."
Sonny nodded. "Noted."
"And it's not like, I mean, like I told you: I'm a human being. I work all the time, I've got Jesse, it's just... I was havin' fun, that's all. I don't even have his phone number. Hell, I don't even have his last name," she rambled. Why did she feel compelled to keep talking? Suspects always inevitably fucked up their stories when they talked about it too much. "I don't intend to ever see him again. I mean, he lives in West Virginia and-"
"Can I ask you something?" he interrupted suddenly.
It was a relief to hear him talk. "Yeah."
His eyes searched her face in silence for what seemed like forever. "Why are you tellin' me this, if you don't care what people think?"
It was hard to keep eye contact with him when she could feel her cheeks coloring with embarrassment. This was what she had wanted, right? An honest conversation? "I don't know. I just thought..."
Sonny stared at her expectantly; clearly he was not going to make this easy.
"I guess I care about what you think, a little," she admitted quietly.
His expression remained unchanged. "Why?"
"You're a good person. The best person I know, probably," she mumbled. "Wouldn't anybody want the best person they know thinkin' the best of them, too?"
"Yeah." He sighed and looked sheepish. "But, ah, that bein' said... I guess I should apologize, too."
Amanda arched an eyebrow. "Y'mean, for acting like a pissy teenage boy?"
"Yeah," he chuckled. "For that."
She narrowed her eyes. "You were jealous."
Sonny dropped his gaze and picked at a hangnail on his thumb
"Of a guy named Buck?" Amanda prompted him. She couldn't help the hint of amusement in her voice.
Pick, pick, pick...
It was driving her fucking nuts. Impulsively, she covered his hands with one of her own and squeezed. His fingers stilled immediately, skin warm and calloused beneath her touch. "I'm not sure... how to do this," Amanda admitted softly. "To make it so, so it doesn't get messed up."
He remained perfectly motionless, but lifted his eyes to meet hers. "So what doesn't?"
Now or never, she figured. "It's easy to jump right into sex. It's fun, too. 'Cause it's exciting, y'know?" she began to explain. "But then the excitement wears off and you get to know who the other person really is, and that's where it all starts going to hell." Tilting her head, she offered him a timid smile. "It always goes to hell with me. I don't know why. Maybe I attract it. Not to get all 'woe is me' on you, 'cause I hate that shit, but..."
She looked down at their hands, momentarily distracted by the sight. Faint blue and purple blotches stood out against her pale knuckles, the remnants of their bar fight one week ago. We could have taken all those guys, you know? Sonny had announced gleefully that night. You're a helluva partner...
Amanda contemplated lifting her palm, but couldn't bring herself to move. If he rejected her, at least she could remember this, close her eyes and pretend she knew what it was like to have his hands roaming over all the places she kept hidden from him. She had a very vivid imagination; she could concoct hours of fantasies prompted by the simplest of touches.
When Amanda lifted her gaze again, she found him watching her. Suddenly shy, she scrunched up her nose and concluded, "I don't want it to go to hell with you."
Sonny's expression softened. When he nodded, something about the way he was looking at her let Amanda know he understood. His fingers twitched beneath her palm so his thumb could graze over the back of her hand gently. An odd combination of relief and anticipation washed over her. She had been truthful about her feelings and the world hadn't ended - at least not yet.
"D'ya wanna maybe... stay?" she offered. "I was gonna start re-watching The Office..."
A slow grin eased over his features. "Yeah. Yeah, I do."
Amanda leaned forward to grab the remote off of the coffee table, then sunk back into the couch next to Sonny. She bent her legs in and let them drop to one side, resting them against Sonny's thigh. He settled a warm palm atop her knee, prompting a smile to tug at the corners of her mouth. Just like that, it was easy again, even despite the hints of newness. It felt so sweet and chaste, so very far from any interaction she had ever had with a man, that Amanda wished she could bottle it up and save it for the days she felt isolated or unworthy.
Or maybe they could just keep doing this.
