Author's Note: Thanks everyone for all of the amazing reviews and feedback. Some stories write themselves, and though this one didn't go in the direction I was expecting it to go, I'm more than happy to let the characters talk for themselves. Another quick thanks to Lalarandoms who, as one reviewer points out, had the original idea of Amanda and Liv turning to each other during difficult times.
Chapter 2
February 2016
They have both walked away. On multiple occasions. The problem is they can never stay away, not for long.
The longest stretch came on the heels of the William Lewis ordeal. Then Amanda waited, fearful that if she initiated anything with Olivia it would trigger her. Frankly she'd been surprised when Olivia showed up on her doorstep almost six months later, hungry and eager to prove a point, if only to herself.
The second longest had been in the aftermath of the Nadari case, when Olivia was so angry with Amanda that she could barely look at her, and Amanda so wracked with guilt that she could barely face her superior. Three months later it had been Amanda who'd reached out, expecting rejection, surprised to find absolution.
Through traumas and triumphs, through cases and through boyfriends, they are the one constant in each other's lives, knowing that they can call upon the other time for any comfort at any time.
It's what they need, even if it's not what they want.
"Want some?" Olivia is already walking to the kitchen, pulling a glass from the cabinet above the stovetop because she knows what Amanda is going to say before she says it.
"Yeah," Amanda sinks onto the couch, toeing her sneakers off because she already knows that Olivia will let her stay. Her eyes dart over to the computer, unsurprised to find that it is her boss' COMSTAT report on the Abraham case. Unsurprised to see it is only half-finished. It was a rough case for everyone involved, but for Olivia more than most. Abraham may have been a pretentious asshole, but between the media fallout on the NYPD and the fact that his wife is good friends with her lieutenant, everyone has been riding the razor's edge for far too long. And her lieutenant is right in the middle of it.
Olivia returns with a second glass, settling on the white couch, one foot tucking underneath her body, gently closing her laptop and cradling her glass of wine like it's going to grow legs and run away. Amanda gingerly takes a sip of the wine, pleased to find that it's one she enjoys, and then takes a larger one, leveling an expectant gaze on her superior.
"Rollins, I told you we can't do this, not anymore," Olivia's distant brown eyes are leveled at some point over Amanda's shoulder, her long fingers tightening around the stem of the wineglass. "I'm your boss, and I'm in charge of this unit, and if the brass were to find out about this it'd cost us more than just our badges. They'd take our careers, our pensions," she pauses, hesitating for a second, "the scandal would destroy this unit."
Amanda expects this, expects the resistance. One sex scandal in the NYPD was more than enough. Two would be a clusterfuck. But she also knows Olivia. Knows that if Olivia intended to end things she wouldn't have made it past the front door. If they had followed the NYPD rule book, there wouldn't have ever been a first time to begin with. Knows that if they had wanted a relationship, wanted this to continue, one or the other of them should have left the precinct, especially after Olivia was promoted.
But the blonde keeps silent, because arguing has never gotten her a damn thing with this woman.
And she loves her all the more for that simple fact, rules be damned.
Amanda takes a sip of the ruby liquid, staring down at the coffee table, mulling a response, knowing Olivia expects her to argue, expects her to take the bait.
So she does the exact opposite.
"Okay, Liv."
Brown eyes widen then blink in surprise, and Amanda knows she has guessed right. "Okay?" Olivia repeats slowly, her voice dragging the last syllable out as if she's still expecting the argument to follow.
Amanda nods, even though it's the last thing she wants to do. She's voiced the same arguments, many times over, so it's no surprise when they're parroted back. Trying to convince herself that she doesn't want Olivia Benson. Doesn't need her. Carefully setting her wineglass on a coaster, Amanda shifts her weight onto her right leg, grabbing Olivia's glass with her other hand, gently prying it from the older woman's fingers.
"Amanda..." Olivia's tone is low, warning.
It is only in private that Olivia addresses her as such. Amanda presses a finger against plump lips, forestalling further arguments as she closes the intervening distance rapidly, her lips halting within an inch of the brunette's, hearing the sharp hiss of air as Olivia holds her breath. "Then at least let me say goodbye."
November 2011
"Do you want something to drink?"
The question snapped Amanda out of her stupor, baby blue eyes slipping towards the end of the small galley kitchen and to the woman who looked at her expectantly, one hand reaching into the cabinet.
"What are you having?" Amanda's throat was dry, parched even, and what she really needed was some water. Her head was swimming, not just from the alcohol but from the knowledge that she was about to have sex with her female colleague.
"Probably some red wine," a slender eyebrow arched as she regarded Amanda, those sharp eyes taking in the blonde's ghostly demeanor. "You all right Rollins?"
"Amanda."
"What?" Olivia's face was pursed in confusion.
Amanda closed her eyes, inhaling deeply, reminding herself that outside of the precinct, she and Olivia are equals. And that this — whatever this is — is just sex.
A gentle hand came to rest on her arm, and Amanda opened her eyes, surprised to see genuine concern showing in Olivia's features. "Are you okay?"
Amanda smiled, feeling more relaxed than she had all evening. "Outside of the precinct, call me Amanda."
Olivia's features visibly relaxed, and for the first time Amanda wondered if the brunette was just as nervous as she was. "Okay, Amanda, what would you like to drink?"
"Red wine will be fine, and maybe some bottled water." Olivia smirked at the last request, pulling down two wine glasses and grabbing a bottle of water from her refrigerator, tossing it to her fellow detective. While it did nothing for her nerves, the water did soothe her parched throat, and she finished half the bottle before accepting the wine glass Olivia held out for her.
"So, um, have you done this before?" Olivia took a large sip of her wine.
A one night stand? Sure. Sleep with a colleague? Amanda refused to go there.
Be with a woman? Other than some heavy petting during a drunken college co-ed party...the answer was no.
But Olivia had not specified, so she nodded, taking a drink from her own glass. "You?" Keeping the question purposely vague.
Olivia nodded curtly, a equally vague but fitting response, tracing a well-manicured finger along the lip of her glass. The two women continued drinking in silence, the tension steadily building, waiting to see who would break first.
Olivia sat her glass aside, drawing Amanda closer while simultaneously relieving her of her own glass, the space between the two women disappearing, brown eyes meeting blue with a sudden intensity that took Amanda's breath away.
There was a moment's pause, their breaths mingling, a heady anticipation, an acknowledgement that things were about to change between them.
And just like that, she was kissing Olivia Benson.
A noise that was a cross between a whimper and a moan erupted from Amanda's throat, her hands lifting to frame Olivia's face, deepening the kiss, totally immersing herself in the moment. The impossibly soft feel of her lips. The taste of the wine against her tongue. The way Liv's mouth parted, granting her tongue permission to explore even deeper, brushing past the tips of her teeth to entwine with her own.
Olivia's hands slid in opposite directions along the curvature of her spine, one hand snaking its way to entangle within her hair, the other slipping south, cupping Amanda's backside and pulling her hips even closer.
They gasped simultaneously, the kiss breaking, albeit reluctantly, as both sets of eyes fluttered open. Olivia and Amanda locked gazes, as if they were seeing each other for the first time.
"Bed," Olivia panted, resting her forehead against the blonde's, blinking slowly, as if coming out of a daze.
"Now," Amanda agreed, tracing a tongue across her own lower lip, committing to memory the faint taste of berries that she would forever associate with Olivia.
Then Olivia dipped her head again, capturing Amanda's mouth once more in a fiery kiss; her teeth, lips, and tongue working in flawless synchronization, her hands migrating to the blonde's hips and gently nudging her in the direction of the bedroom.
Amanda was content to follow Olivia's lead since she didn't know where she was going. Besides, with the way Olivia was kissing her she was far more likely to run into a wall than find her way uninjured into Olivia's bed.
Nibbling at the blonde's lower lip, Olivia briefly pressed the bedroom door open, backing the younger detective until they halted at the edge of the mattress.
"God, you are so good at that," Olivia murmured, reaching up to trail the backs of her fingers along Amanda's high cheekbone, her brown eyes darkened with arousal.
"That's supposed to be my line," Amanda teased, the corner of her mouth curling into a half-smile, attempting to inject a little levity into an extremely tense situation.
Standing there, for the first time, toe-to-toe with Olivia Benson at the edge of her bed, Amanda wondered if she'd made a mistake.
How was she ever going to be able to walk away from this?
February 2016
Olivia Benson still tastes like berries.
She is the lone participant in this kiss, the brunette refusing to reciprocate, though Amanda can feel her resolve wavering as she trails her fingertips along Olivia's cheeks, tenderly cupping the side of her face. Nibbling along the border of Olivia's lower lip, Amanda bites down gently, hearing the other woman's harsh inhale, then shaky exhale as she soothes the area with her tongue.
A low whine erupts from Olivia's throat, the brunette's renowned composure breaking, and her arms slip around Amanda's smaller frame, drawing the blonde onto her lap so that Amanda is straddling her, knees firmly planted on either side of Olivia's hips.
"God, what you still do to me." Olivia murmurs between kisses. It's more of a prayer than a question, but to Amanda's ears it's pure poetry.
The blonde loosely drapes her arms over Olivia's shoulders. She can already feel the heat radiating from Olivia's core, knows that all she has to do is ask and Olivia would take her right now, right here on the sofa. It wouldn't be the first time.
She knows that come Monday they will return back to the squad room as if nothing has ever happened, because that was their agreement, a drunken pact made long ago. Just one of their many rules.
But Amanda Rollins has never been much of a rule follower.
Feathering kisses along the curvature of Olivia's jaw, Amanda leans in, her fully-clothed body molding intimately against the figure that meshes so well with her own, her lips coming to a halt beside the arch of Olivia's ear.
"Let me make love to you."
Six little words she's never said aloud. Words she has rehearsed a dozen times over, in front of mirrors, when lying alone in bed at night, even on her daily jogs through Central Park. Six little words she has been terrified to speak, afraid of what follows.
It is a fundamental violation of all they had agreed upon, back when this all began.
The body below her tenses, fingernails digging into the fabric of her T-shirt. At once Amanda fears she's made a terrible mistake, an irrevocable mistake, and her breath hitches in her throats when Olivia pulls back, that laser-like focus coming to bear. She wishes she could backtrack, wishes that she could somehow rewind time.
Wishes that she had never found the courage to approach Olivia in the bar. At least then she wouldn't have to know the pain of having her heart ripped out when she is rejected.
Her eyes watering, Amanda forces her gaze somewhere, anywhere but on the woman who has unknowingly stolen her heart.
"Amanda..."
The bookshelf, the artwork, the air conditioning vent.
Find anything. Anything. Just not on Liv.
Olivia captures Amanda's chin between her thumb and her forefinger, forcing the younger woman to meet that penetrating gaze, brown eyes almost black, unreadable. Amanda's breath hitches in her chest, her heart clenching painfully at her boss' stoic expression.
"About our rules..."
Those fucking rules.
She doesn't know why she should have expected anything else but this. Not from Olivia Benson, a woman she fell in love with before she even left Atlanta. A woman she fights with as much as she makes love with.
Amanda swallows, her throat suddenly dry, tears filling her big blue eyes.
"Our... rules..." It is hard to speak. Hard to formulate a coherent thought. Afraid this is somehow all just a dream. That she will wake up and walk into the squad room to find her transfer papers on her desk.
Olivia's grip on her chin gradually relaxes, and she trails a finger down the center of Amanda's lower lip. Those warm brown eyes soften, filled with a tenderness, an earnestness that Amanda has never seen.
"Our rules be damned. Now take me to bed."
November 2011
Their lips crashed together once more, tongues dueling for supremacy, each woman gasping for air, breathy moans and ragged panting echoing throughout the room.
Deft fingers plucked at the buttons on her blouse, and Amanda was suddenly grateful that she'd at least worn matching blue lingerie. It wasn't as if she woke up that morning and decided to suddenly bang Olivia Benson.
Amanda gasped when Liv's fingers slipped underneath her now-open shirt, fingers skating along well-toned stomach muscles, which quivered involuntarily at the feather-light caress. Her nipples tightened painfully as the brunette's fingers skirted past her bra, pushing the sleeves of her blouse off her shoulders, the fabric pooling at her feet.
As sorely tempting as it would be to rip Olivia's shirt down the middle, Amanda forced herself to show restraint, knowing that the brunette would not appreciate her ruining a perfectly good blouse over a one night stand. Trailing her lips down Olivia's chin to the hollow of her throat, Amanda gently latched onto her pulse point and sucked, careful to not leave a mark, her own hands fumbled briefly with the top button of the taller woman's shirt before finding their rhythm.
One by one, she plucked at the buttons, exposing more and more of that olive skin, her heart racing as she catches that first glimpse of Olivia's bulbous breast peeking out from behind a wine-colored bra.
"Damn it, Amanda," Olivia groaned, her hands rubbing up and down the shorter woman's back, slipping into her hair, grabbing her backside and squeezing, constantly moving. "Hurry it up or I'm gonna finish the job myself."
Amanda laughed lightly, pushing the fabric over Olivia's shoulders, drawing back just enough to catch her impatient expression. "Now that would be something to see," she teased, light eyes twinkling, dragging her nails lightly across Olivia's back and unclasping her bra.
Her heart nearly stopped beating when Olivia rolled her shoulders, the lacy fabric slipping from her shoulders and falling on the ground. Blue eyes skimmed hungrily over the tanned skin of Olivia's chest, following the gently sloping curves to the darker hues of her rapidly hardening nipples.
This woman was a goddess.
Olivia snorted. "That's not happening. And you have entirely too many clothes on, Rollins."
"Amanda," the blonde corrected gently, drawing a shaky breath as Liv reached around her body and unhooked her bra. She felt a little self-conscious standing there half-naked in front of her coworker, especially when that coworker looked the way that Olivia Benson did.
As if reading her mind, a pair of fingers pressed lightly underneath her chin. "You look beautiful, Amanda." Olivia reassured her.
You look beautiful.
You look beautiful.
Amanda couldn't remember the last time anyone had actually told her that.
Olivia's palms slipped down the length of Amanda's arms, leaving goosebumps their wake, gently taking Amanda by the hands and guiding her to the bed, pushing aside the tan duvet and sitting on the edge of the mattress.
Amanda followed Olivia's lead, sat on the edge of the bed and pulled off her boots and her socks. The blonde was reaching for the top button on her pants when Olivia's hands covered her own.
"Let me help you with that," long, dexterous fingers unbuttoned and unzipped her brown slacks. Amanda's breath quickened when Olivia knelt by the bed, but nonetheless laid back and lifted her hips, shivering when the brunette removed both her pants and her underwear in one smooth motion, grateful she'd at least taken care of her personal hygiene matters the day before.
Olivia stood abruptly, hands moving to unbutton her own slacks when Amanda pushed off her elbow, brushing the brunette's fingers aside with a grin. "Turnabout is fair play." Deftly undoing the older woman's pants, Amanda hooked her fingers beneath the band of Olivia's underwear and gave them a sharp tug.
And promptly stopped breathing.
Olivia Benson was an absolute vision.
Amanda's blue gaze shifted from Liv's feet (with purple polish no less – it was becoming her new favorite color) up the long line of Olivia's legs to a neatly trimmed patch of dark curls at the apex. Only when her lungs were burning for air did she finally breathe, her lungs filling with air and a scent she recognized as absolutely intoxicating.
"Are you finished staring?" Olivia's voice was tight, and the thought briefly occurred to Amanda that maybe, just maybe, Olivia was just as insecure and nervous about her body, and about this, as she was.
"I was just admiring the view," Amanda admitted shyly, and Olivia rolled her eyes, crawling into the bed beside the blonde. She propped her weight up on her elbow, mirroring the brunette. "You're absolutely beautiful, Liv."
Olivia's lower lip was caught between her teeth, like she wanted to say something, but after a minute went by and with the awkward silence between them growing, Amanda decided she needed to act before the older woman could back out.
Meaningless sex between consenting adults. Forgetting the world that they live in, if only for a moment.
She leaned over, pressing her lips against the brunette's, grabbing her by the wrist and tugging lightly, feeling the last of her hesitation melt away. Olivia sidled closer, both women releasing a simultaneous rush of air as their naked bodies came into contact for the first time.
Olivia's body was soft, impossibly soft, and those extra inches of height meant that her body moulded perfectly to Amanda's own, hardened nipples grazing soft skin, hands sliding over smooth curves. Amanda's breath grew ragged when Olivia began kissing along her jawline, and when the brunette captured an earlobe between her teeth, she cried out, growing impossibly wetter as her leg found its way between Olivia's own.
"Oh God, Liv." More coherent thought seemed impossible. How could she have not known how good this could feel? Amanda was desperate for something, anything, to grab onto. Her hands slid past the dip of Olivia's back, grabbing her backside and pulling those same hips against her thigh, feeling the slick heat of the brunette's arousal as they rocked together, almost frantic, needy.
"Fuck, Amanda. You are driving me crazy," Olivia gasped, pulling away, leaving Amanda strangely bereft until she realized those lips were making their way lower. Amanda's eyes fluttered closed when she felt those impossibly full lips wrap around one nipple, then the other, suckling tentatively at first, then with a greater confidence as Amanda writhed beneath her.
The blonde was so focused on the undeniably erotic feel of Olivia's mouth that she almost missed the nearly imperceptible creep of the Liv's fingers along her inner thigh, their frenetic pace slowing as those same fingers trailed up along the crease of her lower lips.
If Amanda's heart could stop beating, she was almost certain it would.
Baby blue eyes flew open, their surprised expression locked onto Olivia's, whose focus was locked onto Amanda's face. The brunette frowned, and her lips, which had been trailing kisses between the valley of Amanda's breasts, slowed, Liv's fingers stilling.
"Are you okay?" Olivia asked, concerned eyes darting back and forth, trying to read her expression. Amanda nodded frantically. Speech was all but impossible. God help her if Liv tried to back out now. Amanda wasn't sure her heart could take it.
Olivia visibly relaxed, leaning down to kiss her once more. Her fingers slid lower, circling Amanda's entrance, one finger slipping inside, followed by a second, gliding through the warmth until they filled her completely. Amanda's grip on Olivia's back tightened momentarily when she felt the brunette begin to pull out, loosening once more when Olivia thrust even deeper.
Together, they began to establish an easy rhythm of thrusts and of counter-thrusts. The occasional creaking of the bed frame interspersed the gasps and moans of the two women. Olivia slipped a third finger inside, stretching her, the brunette's thumb circling the small bundle of nerves peeking out from its protective hood. Amanda felt herself rapidly climbing towards a peak she had never thought possible.
And with one last flick of the thumb, she fell.