I've been really sick for the past week, so I decided to write a bit of smutty fluff about Amanda getting sick and Liv taking care of her. This story will be two chapters and takes place around season 16. I seem to like setting my stories in that particular season.
Noah and Frannie don't exist in this fic.
Thank you so much for the comments on my previous stories! I really appreciate them! :)
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"You give me fever when you you kiss me
Fever when you hold me tight
Fever in the morning
Fever all through the night"
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"Hey Rollins, will you do us all a favor and go home?"
"Don't be a jerk, Fin," Amanda snaps at her partner, glaring across the desk at him with watery, bloodshot eyes.
"I'm not trying to be a jerk and I say this with love," the older man replies, his tone softening as he gazes fondly at her, "but get the hell out of here, will ya?"
"Yeah, Rollins, you're going to infect the entire squad," Amaro chimes in with a grumble. "I just got over the flu Zara brought home from school last week. I don't need to get sick again, especially not this soon."
"I'm fine," Amanda protests with a wrinkle of her nose, willing herself not to sneeze. "Liv needs all hands on deck right now, so I'm not going to let her down. Or you guys." She tries to infuse a confident, authoritative note into her tone, despite the hoarseness of her voice and the twitching of her nose. "I'm not going anywhere until we solve this. I'll be here until this case is wrapped up."
"We'd prefer if you were here with us in spirit rather than in person," Fin replies dryly with a roll of his eyes. "You won't be letting us down if you and your germs go home. You're getting them all over the squad room."
"I am not. Stop being so dramatic," Amanda scowls just as she feels another sneeze coming on, unable to stifle it this time, no matter how hard she tries.
She ends up sneezing loudly three times in a row, just as the door to Olivia's office swings open and the object of her affection steps in the room. "Ah, shit," she mumbles under her breath, snatching a tissue from her desk drawer and wiping her nose surreptitiously.
"Rollins, I thought you told me earlier that you weren't sick?" One of the brunette's eyebrows is arched in what looks like annoyed challenge, Amanda shrinking slightly in her chair under that stern gaze. "When I asked if you were coming down with something, you repeatedly told me you were fine."
"Yeah, well, she repeatedly lied," Amaro chuckles, Amanda's glare focusing on him now. "She's been coughing and sneezing in every corner of this precinct, Liv. She's going to infect us all."
Amanda's eyes dart from her co-worker to her boss, observing Olivia's crossed arms and the no-nonsense expression on her face, and she knows the jig is up.
"Alright, you need to pack up your stuff and head home," the lieutenant says firmly, but there is a hint of concern evident beneath her irritation. "You should be resting, not working."
"But you need me," Amanda argues weakly, sensing this is a fight she will not win and wondering if Olivia is keeping count of the number of times she has been less than forthright since starting at SVU a few years prior. She herself isn't even aware of the actual number at this point, the half-truths and blatant lies seeming to slip so effortlessly and continuously off her tongue. But she figures this one in particular has at least been for a good cause instead of mere self-preservation, as she strives to bring justice to their latest victim alongside her team.
"We need you in good shape, not looking like you're about to fall off your chair with exhaustion." Olivia's voice is gruff, Amanda's heart sinking when she is sure she can detect a tinge of disappointment in her tone. "Your health comes first, Amanda."
She does her best to ignore both Fin and that snitch Amaro as she shuts down her computer and prepares to leave, the latter smirking and waving gleefully at her from his desk. Amanda can feel the energy rapidly draining from her body like a balloon deflating, and she doesn't even have the strength to mutter something snarky at him in response, or exercise her middle finger.
Every single person in this precinct has been aggravating the hell out of her today, including the newest detective, Carisi, who has been funny and sweet as he learns the ropes, and not nearly as obnoxious as Amaro. But even the new guy's kindness has been getting on her nerves over the past several hours, and Amanda knows she should be grateful that she doesn't have to deal with any of them until at least tomorrow. Instead, she just feels grouchy and rejected, like she is being punished for having the audacity to catch a contagious illness and not doing an adequate job of hiding it.
She is aware of how petulant she is acting, deciding to blame it on the fog that is swiftly taking over her brain and the chills that are wracking her limbs like she is trudging through an Arctic blizzard instead of a pleasant spring breeze in New York. By the time she arrives home, Amanda is ready to grudgingly admit that Olivia had done the right thing by banishing her from the precinct and ordering her to rest, barely able to keep her balance as she stumbles into her apartment.
The remainder of the day passes in a blur of disrupted sleep on the couch, cheesy soap operas on TV, and round after round of coughing, sneezing, and nose-blowing. By the time the sky begins to darken outside her windows, the sun sinking behind the clouds in a spectacular display of pink and orange, Amanda thinks she is running a fever and feels a wave of dizziness when she sits up on the cushions.
Her phone is ringing and she picks it up from the coffee table with a trembling hand, squinting to see Olivia's name on the screen and sighing heavily before answering. She is not in the mood to be chastised yet again for coming into work when she should have stayed home, and doesn't know if she can reign in her temper this time.
"Hello?" Amanda croaks, sputtering through a series of coughs before she can hold them in, and wishing the room would stop spinning.
"Oh, you sound healthy," a wry voice responds, and Amanda braces herself for what is to come, surprised and curious when it's not what she thinks. "I just thought I would check on you before I head home for the night. Are you doing okay? Do you need anything?"
Amanda is too stunned to reply for a moment; so certain Olivia had been calling to reprimand her once more, her fatigued brain already gearing up for a fight. She is completely thrown off by the softening of the other woman's voice as she continues speaking, Olivia sounding truly concerned for her well-being and using the comforting tone that is generally reserved for people she cares about.
The tenderness that is unexpectedly being directed her way sends tingles through Amanda's weakened body, and she decides to blame the virus that is ravaging her system when she suddenly feels disarmed and vulnerable. She doesn't want to dwell on the real reason she feels this way and clears her throat awkwardly when Olivia repeats the questions she has just asked, realizing she hasn't given an answer.
"Um, I'm fine, Liv," Amanda replies shakily, scolding herself for sounding so frail. "I don't need anything, but thanks for thinking of me."
She glances at the pitiful array of snacks scattered across the coffee table, knowing she doesn't have enough actual food in the fridge or cupboards to put together a decent meal for dinner. She doesn't have the energy anyway, and her appetite isn't great, so Amanda figures it's not a big deal if she waits until she's feeling better to do a proper shopping or order something in.
"Are you sure about that?" Olivia's tone implies knowledge of her detective's deceit once again, and Amanda squirms uncomfortably on the couch, like her boss can read her mind. "You don't sound okay. Have you eaten much today?"
"I've eaten enough." Amanda looks at the empty chip bags and take-out cups of coffee littering the room, feeling a twinge of guilt for not taking better care of herself.
"How about I bring you some soup? I can pick some up from that restaurant on the corner that you like so much."
Amanda almost falls off the couch in shock at this offer; that not only is her boss volunteering to go out of her way to make sure she has a hearty, delicious meal, but that she also remembers the restaurant her least-favorite detective enjoys and frequents often. Amanda reconsiders her previous thought before giving the older woman an answer, hopeful that she has been wrong all this time and maybe she isn't at the bottom of the list of every single person Olivia has ever worked with or known.
Amanda is torn between wanting to spend time with the woman she has been crushing on for years and embarrassed for being so pathetic, she is incapable of making herself some soup. The embarrassment wins out eventually, and although she still feels somewhat conflicted, Amanda turns Olivia's generous offer down.
"Are you sure?" the lieutenant tries again. "I can just drop the soup off for you. I don't have to stay long."
Amanda curses the persistent growling that has started up in her stomach during this conversation, and finally grudgingly agrees, her belly fluttering with nervous anticipation at Olivia's impending visit.
Upon disconnecting the call, she takes a critical look around her untidy apartment and then down at the old pajama bottoms and ratty college sweatshirt she is wearing, suddenly feeling panicked at the messy state of her home and the unkempt version of herself. Amanda's hair is standing out in blonde tufts around her head and her face has the waxy quality of a corpse, when she dares to glance in the bathroom mirror. She shudders in revulsion at her reflection, purple smudges of fatigue ringing her bloodshot eyes and her normally smooth, unblemished skin looking irritated and blotchy.
Amanda begins straightening up the apartment as quickly as she can, bringing armfuls of dishes into the kitchen sink, and kicking the empty coffee cups and chip bags under the couch. She is coughing breathlessly and sweating profusely when she is finished, surprised that such a minimal amount of effort has taken so much out of her as she slumps back onto the cushions.
The second she sits down, there is a knock at the door, Amanda overcome with a wave of dizziness as she springs to her feet to answer it. Olivia is standing there holding a large paper bag, still clad in her work attire but appearing beautiful and put together even after a long day, her smile fading once they are face to face.
"Amanda, you look terrible."
"Gee, thanks, Liv," she mutters in dismay, twisting the bottom of her sweatshirt self-consciously. "I was actually just about to get cleaned up."
"That's not what I meant," Olivia says softly as Amanda steps aside to let her in. "I mean you look really sick. Why don't you go sit down on the couch while I get your soup ready for you?"
"I really was just about to get in the shower," Amanda replies hurriedly as she backs out of the room before Olivia can protest, feeling completely humiliated that her boss is seeing her in this condition. "I really need to get freshened up. Thanks a lot for bringing the soup. I'll eat it in a few minutes, okay?"
Amanda doesn't wait for an answer before she is shutting herself in the bathroom and stripping off her clothes, shivering when the chilly air hits her bare skin. She spots the bottle of Nyquil on the counter that she had picked up from the pharmacy on her way home, and unscrews the lid before tilting her head back and chugging a fair amount of the liquid. Hopefully the medication will kick in quickly and control her symptoms while Olivia is here, so she won't spend the time coughing and sneezing all over her.
The water from the shower head feels like needles piercing her delicate skin when Amanda steps hesitantly under the spray, shuddering as she cranks the temperature up high. Eventually, the water is so hot that Amanda begins to warm up and feel more comfortable, losing track of time as she stands there with her eyes closed and her mind wandering. She can count on one hand the number of times Olivia has been in her home over the past few years, and this feels like a special occasion despite the reason she is here, Amanda eager to make it a nice visit.
She jumps in fright when there is a knock at the door and Olivia's voice floats in from the other side. "Amanda, are you okay? You've been in there for a long time."
"I'm fine!" Amanda yells as her eyelids fly open and she scrambles to turn the shower off. "I'll be right out."
She is hit with another intense wave of dizziness when she leans out of the bathtub to grab her towel off the rack, Amanda unable to hold in an alarmed gasp as she struggles to keep her balance on the wet porcelain. Her efforts are in vain as she grabs onto the shower curtain for support but ends up falling anyway, crashing hard to the bottom of the tub and laying there in a stunned, breathless heap.
"Amanda, what happened?" Olivia's panicked voice is immediately at the door again, Amanda wincing in pain as she frantically tries to regain her footing before giving up and remaining slumped there in a soaking wet tangle of limbs.
"I'm okay," she calls weakly, stifling a groan as another bout of wooziness makes her head spin, unclear if this reaction is from the virus or downing so much Nyquil, or from the fall itself.
"Are you sure? I heard a thump."
Amanda doesn't reply this time, her sluggish brain working to come up with a reason for why Olivia had heard such a loud noise; any reason except for the one that is actually true.
"Amanda, if you don't answer me, I'm coming in."
"Ugh," she groans in response, feeling pain radiating from every part of her body, and the older woman seems to take this as her cue to enter the room.
"Are you okay?" Olivia asks again, sounding concerned and a little uncertain now. "Do you need some help?"
"No," Amanda says weakly, wincing at the feeble quality of her voice.
"Are you on the bottom of the tub, Amanda?"
"Nooo..." she repeats slowly, her voice trailing off as she realizes how ridiculous it is to lie now that Olivia is standing right on the other side of the shower curtain.
"What are you doing down there? Did you fall?" Olivia continues speaking, apparently choosing to ignore her detective's dishonesty.
"Yes," she sighs in resignation, deciding to tell the truth this time. "I got really dizzy."
"Oh, honey. Let me help you." Olivia's tone is full of compassion and tenderness, and Amanda swallows at the nervous lump in her throat.
She has lost count of how many times she has fantasized about the older woman seeing her naked, but never once has Amanda imagined it happening like this; certainly not when she is sprawled in a wet heap in the bathtub, dazed and feverish, unable to get up without assistance.
"Will you let me help you? Are you hurt?"
"Yes, you can help me," Amanda mutters grudgingly, knowing she won't be able to make it out of this tub without Olivia's aid, and blushing as she tries to maneuver herself into a less exposed position. "I don't know if I hurt myself. I think I'm okay."
"Alright, I'm going to open the curtain."
Amanda's heart is pounding in her chest and her breathing is raspy, as Olivia pauses for a moment before pulling the curtain aside at a gradual pace. She curses her sickly, weakened body for picking now of all times to start becoming aroused, and is shocked at how swiftly the desire consumes her.
As soon as Olivia's gaze falls on her nude form, Amanda can feel her nipples standing at attention and a tingle in her groin. She flushes helplessly and closes her eyes against all of the conflicting sensations and feelings ricocheting through her body, a groan emitting from her lips at the sweet torture of both pleasure and pain.
"It's okay, honey. I've got you." Olivia's voice is unreadable now, and Amanda keeps her eyes firmly shut as she feels herself being covered by a towel. "Let's get you out of there, okay?"
It feels like her body is going to burst into flames when Olivia is crouching beside her in the tub and touching her so gently, Amanda trying to convince herself that it's the fever and not her lieutenant's soft, strong hands on her heated skin, that is driving her crazy. It's obvious that Olivia is being polite and considerate of Amanda's vulnerable state when she tries to keep the towel around her detective's body, but getting out of the slippery tub together is no easy feat, both of them flailing and floundering in their efforts.
The towel quickly becomes lost among the shuffle, Amanda drowning in her increasingly erotic thoughts of her boss, the fear of falling a second time lingering in the background, and doesn't realize she is entirely nude again until Olivia speaks.
"Oh my god, Amanda, you're so hot!"
"Thank you, Liv," she murmurs appreciatively, surprised but pleased to hear this. "You're pretty hot yourself."
"I mean, you're burning up." If Olivia is aware of the nature of the gratitude or the compliment, she gives no indication. "You have a fever."
"Oh, yeah...the fever," Amanda mumbles lamely, sucking in a sharp breath as long fingers graze the underside of her breast when Olivia leans down to pick up the towel.
"I'm sorry about that," the older woman whispers, and when Amanda tries to get a look at her expression, Olivia is occupied with securing the towel more firmly around her body this time, her face turned away.
"It's okay, Liv." Amanda's voice is shaking noticeably and she tries to get herself under control, her nipples painfully stiff now and the ache between her legs increasing with every movement. "I know it was an accident."
She isn't sure which is worse, the heat from her fever or the heat from having Olivia so close to her naked body, the intimate thoughts running circles in her brain only serving to work her into more of a frenzied state. Amanda imagines what would happen if Olivia let the towel drop to the floor again, touching her on purpose this time, those elegant fingers tracing slowly around each nipple before trailing down to do the same to her clit.
She is so caught up in the sensuous scene playing out in her head, Olivia's fingers now languidly slipping inside her, that she visibly startles when the older woman speaks, her voice so close to her ear.
"Whoa, it's okay, honey. Just relax. You're pretty out of it here. I asked if you had any Tylenol. We need to bring that fever down."
Olivia's arms are winding tightly around her body in an obvious effort to hold her up, Amanda trying to stop her knees from buckling, but they end up sprawled together on the closed toilet lid when she fails. Her heart practically explodes out of her chest when she realizes she is now sitting naked on her lieutenant's lap as the towel rides up her thighs, burying her face in Olivia's shoulder in response.
The mixture of embarrassment and arousal is almost too much to take, and combined with her rising fever, Amanda feels like she is losing her mind. She is too overcome with emotion to respond verbally, and merely gestures toward the medicine cabinet above the sink with a barely intelligible grunt.
"Okay, we'll get you some Tylenol in a minute," Olivia explains quietly, a shiver running down Amanda's spine when the brunette begins to stroke her sopping hair away from her flushed face. "We'll just sit here for a bit and give you time to rest.
Amanda has to turn her head away when her blush deepens fiercely, suddenly realizing that the pool between her legs is not just from the shower, and practically launching herself from Olivia's lap at the discovery. She remains seated, though, not wanting to draw more attention to her awkward behavior, hoping the lieutenant will assume the dewy moisture dripping onto her thighs is just water from the tub.
Luckily, Olivia's voice breaks through her tortured thoughts when she says, "Hey, did you already take that Nyquil on the counter?"
Amanda nods wordlessly, still not trusting herself to speak, feeling tingles from head to toe when Olivia's fingers glide under her chin and urge her to lift her head so they are eye to eye.
"Honey, you have to pay attention to which medications you're taking, okay? It's very important. Some of them can't be mixed together," Olivia clarifies softly, her voice patient and concerned, Amanda practically melting into those big brown eyes. "We'll hold off on the Tylenol while you still have the Nyquil in your system. Hopefully it will start bringing your fever down soon."
Amanda nods again, grateful for the distraction, her eyelids fluttering closed when Olivia begins stroking her heated cheeks.
"Okay, this is what's going to happen now. You're going to get dried off and put on some pajamas while I warm up the soup I brought for you. Then we're going to sit on the couch and watch a movie, so I can keep an eye on you and make sure your fever starts coming down. Does that sound good?"
"Yes," Amanda murmurs, torn between disappointment and relief that Olivia has not suggested drying her off herself. She knows she can't handle the older woman moving the towel gently over various parts of her body, particularly the part that has begun throbbing incessantly and begging to be acknowledged, so the disappointment is moot.
Once Olivia has made sure she is okay to be alone for a few minutes, Amanda gets to work with the towel, hoping her vigorous drying motions will be enough to make these feelings stop. But her actions only succeed in heightening her desire, gasping when the fabric slips between her legs and rubs roughly over her clit.
Amanda is panting now, the dizziness returning with a vengeance and her skin burning so hot, it feels like a raging inferno simmering beneath. She leans forward with a clumsy hand to turn the lock on the door, not wanting to risk a surprise reappearance from Olivia.
When she is convinced that it's safe, Amanda bites her lip in anticipation as she drops the towel to the floor and replaces it with her fingers.
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*Song lyrics are from Peggy Lee's "You Give Me Fever"