Post 'Gambler's Fallacy', pre 'Forgiving Rollins'. After Amanda disobeys protocol during a stakeout and Olivia learns the real reason, she realizes she should be more sympathetic toward the blonde. AKA Amanda has been hiding how bad her period can be (because, you know, don't wanna add any more fuel to the 'women shouldn't work' and the 'men are better than women' fire) but when Liv finds out she realizes how grateful she is. Rolivia friendship.
Amanda glared out the passenger seat window as she tried to ignore the cramps that were racking her lower abdomen. All the while attempting to smother her burning anger directed toward her male colleague.
Nick was sitting in the driver's seat of the black SUV, the two detectives currently approaching their fifth hour watching the street for their perp. Fin was sitting in a similar vehicle on the other side of the street, also looking out for the offender. Luckily for the older detective, he was alone. And, less of a stickler for the rules.
The stake-out itself had been rather last minute, they had been leaving a witness' place when Olivia had called and asked them to patrol this location.
And now, after five hours stuck in the car with the annoying detective, Amanda was starting to get tired. Tired and pissed. Not only had they been unprepared from a food standpoint, but also from a water and bathroom standpoint. Fin was doing just fine, the oldest detective having excused himself on multiple occasions to get food, and coffee, and use the bathroom. And though the act was against stakeout protocol, Amara knew better than to argue with the veteran SVU detective. He didn't, however, hold that same respect when it came to his blonde colleague.
So Amanda was stuck arguing with her fellow detective to simply go on a bathroom break, working herself up to a point where her temperature would rise or her blood pressure would drop and she would subdue herself. And even though she could see reason in her partner's insane point, she could help but argue internally that she had a very good reason, and if Nick weren't such an asshole he would just let her go.
God, if she were just partnered with anyone else. Fin wouldn't ask any questions, he'd just let her go. And Olivia, well… Even though Amanda figures the older woman only just tolerates her, she could at least explain to her, be that as it may quite awkwardly, what was going on. And, she could count on the woman to show at least some kind of compassion, not whatever the hell Nick would do.
But, as she approaches the fifth hour, Amanda realizes she runs the risk of being forced to walk back into the precinct with blood on her pants. And that she simply wouldn't do, even if she had chosen dark jeans that day.
I really don't give a damn anymore, she concludes as she shoves the car door open and storms into a nearby cafe, ignoring Nick's incessant yelling.
oaoaoaoaoa
Olivia sighs as she looks up from her paperwork, watching her detectives return to the precinct. Fin was dragging the perp in to be processed, while Rollins and Amaro were heading to their desks, already engaged in an argument of some sort.
Olivia does take note of the fact that while Rollins was normally a full participant in her regular spats with Nick, today she seemed tired and like she'd really rather him just shut up. Not that Liv would argue with that right about now. But when it comes to the two youngest SVU officers, Liv tends to stay out of it, and it wasn't like they were arguing in an overly loud manner. Plus, they had just come back from an almost six-hour stakeout and they deserved a break, even if that break was them arguing.
She finds herself listening to their argument, concerned by her youngest coworker's abnormally exhausted demeanor, ready to jump in if the argument seems too counter-productive. She realizes that it's less of an argument than Nick yelling at Rollins for leaving the car for a bathroom break during a six-hour-long stakeout. And even though she knows it's technically against protocol, she's pretty sure she did the same thing back in her days of being a detective, if not more. And she knows that Fin definitely didn't. This was just another reason for him to bet on her case about something, which he'd been doing a lot of since March. Not that Liv wasn't doing much of the same, but she wasn't quite as outwardly obnoxious. Harsh, yes, but not whatever this was.
Olivia snaps back the situation when Nick says something a little louder than necessary, earning some confused glances from other officers in the squad room. She glances over to the blonde, concerned by her silence, and she finds her looking worryingly pale with one hand pressed firmly into her stomach and the other white-knuckling a pen. She was clearly infuriated by the argument, but too tired to fight back. Which was unusual for Rollins, who usually bickered more in a tired state than in a well-rested one. As Amanda seems to grow impossibly paler, Liv realizes that the younger woman probably hasn't eaten since the morning, if she had eaten anything at all, nor would she have had anything to drink.
"Rollins," she calls out as she stands in her office doorway, "my office. Amaro, take a walk."
"Why don't you have a seat," Liv addresses the blonde as she walks over to close the door.
She sets a water bottle and some snacks that she keeps in her desk beside the younger woman, who looks at them gratefully before flickering her attention back to her superior.
"Serge, I-," Amanda starts, clearly prepared for a reprimanding.
"Look, Rollins," Olivia interrupts, "I understand that I threw all of you into a stakeout unprepared. However, leaving was against protocol. You should have at least cleared it with someone. From what I saw out there, it wouldn't surprise me if Amaro was being less than reasonable. But at least clear it with Fin so that your partner isn't yelling after you as you leave the car, which is much more likely to attract attention."
Liv was still standing up as she addressed her subordinate, but she leaned against the desk in an attempt to make the conversation slightly less formal, and less like the last time she had truly reprimanded the blonde in her office.
Amanda nodded her head in understanding, opening her mouth to say something until she went unbelievably paler, clamping one hand over her mouth in a panic.
Liv instinctively grabbed a trash can and showed it between the blonde's knees as she heaved into the bin, genuinely surprised there was any food in her stomach to throw up. Any annoyance with the detective seemingly vanished as the older woman watched sympathetically, tying blonde tresses up into a ponytail to keep them out of the way. If anything could make throwing up worse, it was getting said throw up all over your hair.
"How're you feeling?" Liv asks as she hands Amanda a now opened water bottle, the trashcan already disposed of.
"I'm fine," Amanda insists as she takes a sip of water, one hand returning to its place on her lower stomach. Her voice is hoarse from the stomach acid, and her complexion goes from absurdly pale, to abnormally flushed in mere seconds.
"Amanda," Olivia murmurs softly, now sitting beside the blonde, "If you were feeling sick you should've told me and I never would have sent you on a six-hour stakeout. Or, better yet, you could've taken a day off to rest and get better." Olivia inwardly laughs at the suggestion. No one at SVU would be caught taking a day off unless it was absolutely necessary, like bed rest necessary, especially not Amanda Rollins.
"I'm not sick," she replies with a slight wince that doesn't go unnoticed, now digging around in her pocket for something.
"My trashcan seems to disagree with that statement, Rollins."
"I'm really not," she continues, pausing her search to resume pressing her hand into her abdomen, another wave of cramps passing through her uterus, forcing a slightly muffled moan out her lips.
Liv stares at Amanda with an alarmed look on her face, "Well, I don't think you're fine, Amanda," she replies softly.
The younger woman doesn't respond, instead, she sets down the water bottle which was now trembling in her hand, and presses her other hand to her abdomen as well, hoping to provide any sort of relief.
"I'm not sick," she grits out, aware that the brunette was probably on growing more worried by the minute. "It's just- it's just that time, you know," she manages, shivering slightly as her body goes from uncomfortably warm to uncomfortably cold.
"Oh, that bad, huh?" the older woman murmurs sympathetically, gently rubbing Amanda's back as she inwardly chastises herself.
Back when she was a detective, there were days where she wished that her captain would've understood if she were to call in sick once a month on those days when it got really bad. The days that she spent either hunched over the toilet or curled up in a ball in an attempt to ease the painful cramps that racked her lower abdomen. But she never did, never let herself. Because she worked with a bunch of men, in a position that was male dominated, and she didn't want to give anyone reason to believe that women really weren't meant to work or that women are weaker than men. Because god knows there was enough of that going around without her helping the cause. And luckily for her, over time the nausea became less frequent and she'd gotten stronger prescription pain meds. But still, it would've been nice for her to be able to admit how crappy she felt and not have to worry about it immediately becoming a gender-roles issue.
And now, she was in that position she wished she'd had in her life, but it didn't seem to matter. But it's not entirely her fault, she reasons. It's a bigger problem, with the system, and not something one boss in one precinct could solve in one day. Because no woman in a workplace would ever dare bring up periods, especially if she worked around men. It was inappropriate, disgusting, and most importantly, not a valid excuse. Because if you admit to suffering with period cramps, then the "Oh, is it your time of the month?" remark has even more power. But, even if she can't change an entire system she can do one thing. Empathize, sympathize, and validate. And those three things are Olivia Benson specialties.
Amanda still isn't saying anything, even after Liv lets herself get lost in her mind for several minutes.
"Amanda?" the sergeant asks eventually, worried as the intense cramps don't seem to be easing, even after multiple minutes. "Is it always this bad or-"
"Always," the blonde grinds out, her eyes are watery as she folds over completely, her head nearly touching her knees.
"Have you seen a doctor?" the brunette inquires softly, "Do you have any meds for it?"
The younger woman nods her head. "Desk, top drawer," she instructs, not even attempting to pretend she's fine and try to retrieve them herself.
The older woman quickly retrieves the pills, reading the label on the way back into her office, handing the trembling woman two of them and the bottle of water despite her reservations about taking them on an empty stomach. Amanda looked to be in to much pain to even be able to focus on eating something.
Liv sits beside her as she downs the pills, continuing to rub her back until the trembling subsides and she's able to sit up again.
"Thanks," Amanda mumbles tiredly as she leans back against the couch. She still looks to be in pain, but at least it's down to a more manageable amount. "Sorry 'bout that," she adds.
"Amanda," the older woman begins worriedly, "Are you sure I shouldn't be taking you to a doctor?"
"Mhmm," the blonde shakes her head, "They've tried. Best they can do is those painkillers."
"Mm," Liv hums sympathetically. "Amanda, if you don't mind me asking. If it's always that bad, how come I've never noticed?"
"Mmm, I normally take the pain meds around the clock, plus some anti-nausea ones. That with some caffeine and a brave face and I'm good to go. But that plan didn't exactly pan out with a six-hour stakeout without any painkillers or coffee."
"But why never call in?" Liv asks non-judgmentally, "It would've been fine with me."
"Don't want to add any more fuel to the fire," Amanda replies nonchalantly, "I get that you might not've judged me, but Atlanta's a different story. I mean, it's boys club down there. If I'd've said anything it would've practically been a death wish. Guess I got used to it." she continues, to a degree that shocked the older woman. Over the years something that she'd learned about Amanda Rollins is that she does not like to talk about Atlanta.
Olivia nods sympathetically. She knew what it was like to work in a squad full of men, but the way Amanda described it, down in Atlanta it didn't seem like there was a sympathetic or empathetic one in sight.
"Amanda," she murmurs after a moment, noticing how truly exhausted the younger woman is. "Why don't I take you home?"
"My shift's not over for two hours and, I'm more than capable of getting myself home Sergeant," she remarks, sitting up a little too quickly, a group of black dots swimming around her vision for a moment or two.
"Uhuh," Liv nods, unconvinced. "Well, you're going home and that's not up for discussion. And I'm pretty sure the last time you ate something was this morning and whatever it was is currently sitting in my trashcan. And I can't have you passing out on the walk home or in your apartment."
"If you're getting off early, wouldn't you rather spend time with your son?" Amanda tries, already accepting her fate.
"Well, I've actually got a free sitter this afternoon who is more than happy to spend extra time with Noah."
Amanda shoots her a quizzical look.
"Munch. He's determined to teach him to always question authority."
aoaoaoaoao
"By the way," Liv remarks as they leave the precinct together, "In case you need a reminder, it's not a boys club here."
Hope you enjoyed! Reviews, comments, and suggestions are welcome but not required.