Chapter Text
Monday.
Olivia stepped out of the elevator and moved towards her office, her feet following a map that had, by now, sunk down into her bones.
“Morning, Rollins,” she said to the only one of her detectives at work yet.
Amanda looked up for a half-second, eyes darting back to her computer screen once she’d taken in Olivia’s frame. “Morning,” she replied uneasily, the tiniest blush on her neck.
Olivia closed her office door behind her, hesitating for a beat. That was… weird. Amanda was being weird. She stole a quick glance at her through the window; shoulders tense, head bent over a file now, eyes determinedly glued to it.
Olivia hummed, curious.
Tuesday.
The text from Fin came in an hour before Olivia was due to finish for the day.
With a vic en route to Mercy, stable-ish. Perp caught @ scene, uniforms bringing him in, eta 20.
She got up, adjusting her expectations for the evening. It would probably be a late one. She walked into the bullpen where Kat and Amanda were both busy tying up loose ends from their last case. “Kat, can you meet Fin at Mercy General? I don’t know the full details yet, but uniforms are bringing the suspect in for questioning. Rollins, you’re with me.” She nodded her head towards the interview rooms.
“Actually,” Amanda said, aiming for casual and landing somewhere unsteady instead, “can I go to Mercy? I need to stretch my legs.”
“Uh, sure,” Olivia conceded, the sharpening of her gaze almost imperceptible. “Kat, you’re with me, then.”
Kat nodded, grabbing her notebook. Olivia watched Amanda walk out of the precinct, trying to calculate if the wide-berthing and averted eyes meant something or not.
“Boss?” Kat said from somewhere behind her.
“Huh?” She replied, distracted. She looked over her shoulder and remembered where she was, tried to zone back in. “Sorry. Yeah. Let’s prep.”
Wednesday.
It had been a while since Olivia had been able to steal enough time for a lunch break run.
The truth was she hadn’t really had time today, either. But something about this week had nested under her skin and started crawling, and she needed to move her body to shake it loose. The arrogance of the perp last night, the complications they’d already hit with the case. The victim’s statement, scraping straight through to her heart.
The bitterness of her coffee this morning. The frustrating conversation she’d had with the DA’s office earlier.
Amanda avoiding her.
She huffed into the locker room, trying to catch her breath, bothered by how much she was ruminating on that last one. She stretched her calves, quads, hips. It burned but in a helpful way. She pulled her shirt off and sat in her sports bra on the low wooden bench, hoping to cool off quickly.
Just as Olivia was starting to think about finding her towel, the door pushed open.
“Liv.”
She looked up and found Amanda stopped in the doorway, eyes wide and catching on Olivia’s sweat-beaded neck, collarbone, deltoids. Amanda, realising her stare, flicked her eyes away from Olivia and cleared her throat. “Sorry, I–”
“Amanda?” she tried to call out, but the blonde had already retreated.
Thursday.
Olivia leaned back in her desk chair and exhaled. They’d made some really great progress today. She had that itch in her palms that let her know they were close to being able to hand over an iron-clad case to Carisi.
Still, she couldn’t stop her thoughts from wandering back to Amanda, over and over, this incessant loop of worry. The blonde was still acting flighty. Fidgety. Olivia was working hard to keep self-indulgent thoughts at bay, weary of the arrogance of assuming Amanda’s uneven behaviour had anything to do with herself.
Sick of wondering without doing anything, she grabbed her phone and opened her text thread with Amanda, who was currently out in the field with Fin.
Drink after work? My shout.
It didn’t take long for Amanda’s reply to come through.
I’m beat. Rain check?
Olivia stared down at the four words on her screen, the disappointment settling quick and sturdy. It felt like proof, some sort of confirmation. She started typing back.
Have I done someth–
She backspaced, worrying it sounded… needy. She felt needy. Olivia had realised this week just how much she relied on Amanda to keep her afloat at work. She was like some sort of vital hum that kept Olivia focused, supported, alive. She was floundering without her, and that was unnerving.
She sighed and let her fingers tap out a reply that sounded normal.
Rain check. Get some rest.
Friday.
It was one of those rare Friday evenings where everyone had managed to postpone their weekend – or, what constituted a weekend when you worked for the NYPD – to grab a drink at the pub down the street from the precinct. The pub itself was low-lit and dingy, but it suited them just fine.
Fin had gotten the first round and they’d all sat together laughing and letting off steam after a busy week. Now, Olivia was the only one left at their table, savouring a glass of merlot and watching her squad spread across the room. Kat and Fin had found their way to a dartboard in the corner and Rollins was at the bar catching up with Carisi, who’d managed to steal away from court on time.
She watched the ease in Amanda’s shoulders and the way she laughed at something Carisi said, and felt a pang of jealousy in her chest. She still had no idea why Amanda had suddenly lost that ease with Olivia this past week. But then, to her surprise, Amanda squeezed Carisi’s arm goodbye and started weaving her way over to Olivia’s lonely spot.
“Hey,” Amanda said, a hesitant smile on her lips. She scrunched up her nose and let her eyes fall on her friend. “I’ve been weird, haven’t I?”
“Oh?” Olivia replied, swirling the wine in her glass softly. “I hadn’t noticed.”
Amanda chuckled at the gentle sarcasm in Olivia’s voice and slipped into the seat opposite her. “I’m sorry.”
“You don’t have to apologise,” Olivia assured her, watching to see if Amanda would elaborate. When she didn’t, she asked, “Is everything okay?”
“Totally fine.”
“Is something going on, though?” Olivia pushed. “Is your family okay?”
Amanda shook her head, “No, they’re fine.”
“Okay, then what?”
“Liv, come on,” Amanda laughed, trying to tip the conversation lighter, “I just… I can’t say.”
“Okay,” Olivia nodded, taking a long sip of her wine. “But I hope you know you can tell me anything, Amanda. You know that, right? We’re friends.”
Amanda almost choked on her beer, swallowing quickly and ignoring the burn in her throat. “Yup,” she agreed. “Friends.”
Olivia set her gaze on the blonde and tried to untangle the past week and that word, friends. The way it had fallen out of Amanda’s mouth like a persuasion. Were they not actually friends? Olivia thought they’d gotten there over the years. This conversation was just creating more questions for Olivia, more uneven ground and unspoken doubts. Evidently, Amanda could see the math going on in Olivia’s mind because she sighed and unraveled herself a little bit more.
“Look, it’s sort of… inappropriate. And I don’t wanna make you feel uncomfortable.”
Olivia sharpened – her eyes, ears, posture. She was no longer sitting in the pub with Amanda, she was Lieutenant Olivia Benson across from a potential victim, the word ‘inappropriate’ ringing in her head. “Has someone done something to you?”
“God, no, Liv,” Amanda said, startled. “Nothing like that.”
Olivia tried to keep her tone calm, reassuring, but she couldn’t help the insistence that managed to filter through, “If they have, Amanda, you know I will stop at nothing–”
“I had a sex dream, okay?” Amanda blurted out, needing to interrupt Olivia’s mistaken line of thought.
“Oh,” Olivia stuttered, eyes wide. Whiplash.
Amanda finally, finally, met her gaze properly. She looked self-conscious and petulant at the same time. “About you.”
“Oh,” Olivia repeated, realisation and the tiniest bit of arousal crashing down around her. She sifted through all of their odd interactions over the week, connecting the dots. “I see,” she added, the corner of her lip quirking. She tried not to look too pleased with herself.
It mustn’t have worked, though, because Amanda slumped forward onto the table and groaned. Her voice was muffled when she spoke into the sticky wooden slab. “It’s never happened to me before with a… close friend. Who’s also my boss. I felt weird about it. I didn’t know how to act around you.”
“Clearly,” Olivia teased.
“In the dream,” Amanda said, sitting back up half-sullen and half-amused, having accepted her fate, “we were in the locker room, which is why… on Wednesday…”
“Got it,” Olivia smirked, comprehending what she was getting at: Amanda, walking in on Olivia in the locker room, half undressed, sweaty, flushed from her run. She had no idea how she was supposed to be reacting to this confession but the only response she seemed able to find was flattered and a little bit cocky.
“Jesus, Liv,” Amanda laughed, fighting her own smirk. “I feel like a creep. Say something to make me feel better.”
“You’re not a creep.”
Amanda met her with a doubtful look.
“Oh, come on. It’s not that bad!” she said. “Here, I’ll balance the playing field. My first week on the job, I had a sex dream about Munch.”
“No way!”
“Way,” Olivia laughed. “I couldn’t look him in the eye for weeks.” She shrugged, trying to show Amanda it didn’t have to be a big deal. “It happens to the best of us.”
Amanda fiddled with the rim of her glass, unable to stop the remnants of shyness from sticking to her. She gave Olivia a crooked smile, “That does make me feel a little bit better, thank you.”
“Good,” Olivia said, patting her friends’ arm before tipping back the last of her red. She stood up, ready to call it a night. She gave a quick wave to the rest of the squad by the dartboard to signal her departure. On her way past Amanda, she couldn’t help but pause, fingers lingering on the table near the blonde’s elbow. She lowered her voice to say, “For the record, Rollins, I’m very flattered.”
Amanda stilled for the briefest second before rolling her eyes, pushing Olivia away with exasperated hands, and saying, “Yeah, yeah. Go home, Lieutenant.”
Olivia did, feeling lighter than she had the whole week.
She had Amanda back.
Olivia was sitting on her bed.
It felt the same as it always did; soft cotton under her skin, smelling faintly of the citrus detergent she used. Headboard, padded and sturdy behind her back. But the bedroom walls were different. They were malleable, warping to the movements of Olivia’s head as she got her bearings.
Suddenly, she became acutely aware of the weight of someone on top of her, straddling her thighs. Olivia closed her eyes as a hand moved to her jaw and tilted it, gaining access to her neck. She felt tongue and teeth at her collarbone, felt them map a course to her earlobe.
Action, reaction.
Fire started to lick at her entire body, radiating from the curve of her neck that Amanda was currently giving attention to. Because it was Amanda; of course it was. That made a lot of sense to her. She opened her eyes and let her hands slide up Amanda’s bare thighs, pressed her thumbs into the crease where they met her hips.
Amanda sucked at her neck one last time, sealing it with a feather-light kiss before she moved back, slightly taller than Olivia sitting in her lap like this. Olivia eased her head back to look up into Amanda’s face and drank in her flushed cheeks, mussed hair, the potent glint of worship in her eyes.
“Hi,” Olivia murmured ridiculously.
“Hi,” Amanda breathed back, smiling. She let the inhibition simmer in the air for a brief moment before tipping her head forward to capture Olivia’s lips in a searing kiss. Amanda’s mouth on her own felt like being claimed, being wanted.
Olivia let her hands wander further, moving from Amanda's hips to the curve of her waist. Pleased by the touch, Amanda deepened the kiss impossibly further. Olivia started to need air but refused to try and get some, happy to suffocate just like this. She let her right hand skim Amanda’s ribcage before grasping her breast, letting her thumb brush over her nipple, lightly, just teasing. Amanda broke their kiss, a delighted gasp escaping from her throat.
“What do you want, Amanda?” Olivia said, desperate to know. “Tell me what you want.”
Amanda, still distracted by Olivia’s hands on her, didn’t answer immediately. When she did, a decided smirk had found its way to her lips. “I want to have to work for it, and I don’t want you to help.”
Olivia raised a questioning eyebrow at the blonde.
“I want it to drive you crazy that you’re not allowed to help,” Amanda clarified.
Olivia laughed, a short incredulous sound. There was something so absurd and exciting and quintessentially Amanda about that request. She removed her hands from Amanda’s body and held them up by her head in surrender, the backs of them pressed into the headboard behind her.
Amanda grinned and took control. Olivia watched as she eased one of Olivia’s hands off the headboard and pulled two of her fingers into her mouth. Slow, sensual, never breaking eye contact. Next, she placed Olivia’s hand - fisted bar the sucked fingers - into Olivia’s own lap.
Olivia was in a trance. Amanda’s movements were so steady, so sure, a juxtaposition to the wobbling bedroom walls that crowded around them. Amanda kissed her again, drawn out and purposeful, and lowered herself onto Olivia’s fingers.
Fuck, Olivia thought, Amanda’s wetness there and the easy slide breaking her apart. The fire that had been licking at her limbs before was now inside of them entirely, setting her alight.
Amanda started to move, grinding herself down on Olivia’s fingers with an ascending pace. Before long, she couldn’t concentrate on kissing Olivia properly, so she moved her mouth back an inch and let her ragged breath huff into Olivia’s lips instead. Olivia felt all of her senses on edge, alive and crackling as she soaked in what was happening all around her.
She couldn’t stop it when her hand started to move to meet Amanda’s rhythm, aching to help. She wanted a bigger part in Amanda’s undoing.
“Stay still, baby,” Amanda warned as she reached down and grasped Olivia’s wrist, stilling and supporting it. “I want you watching.”
Olivia did as she was told; stayed still and felt the heat coil in her gut as Amanda lifted her shoulders and arched her back. She was absolutely fucking beautiful, working herself fluently on Olivia’s fingers and in complete control of her own pleasure. Doing it so Olivia could see, so it could build for her in the most maddening way.
It didn’t take long before Olivia could feel her free hand twitching, desperate to touch Amanda where she knew she needed it. Out of the corner of her eye, Amanda saw her hand struggling to stay put. “Are you watching?” she breathed, trying to keep Olivia on track.
“I’m watching,” Olivia nodded. “Please, can I–”
But Amanda shook her head, no. She reached her own hand down, letting it find the place that Olivia was worrying about. A sharp intake of breath left Amanda’s lips at the contact and the sound spiked in Olivia’s head, her wrist, her own clit.
Before long, Amanda’s movements became more frantic, losing any semblance of restraint, and Olivia watched the climb with hunger. A high-pitched sound pierced her ears and she dragged her eyes away from Amanda for a second to get rid of it, and the walls, which had been unsteady for a while now, came crashing down.
Suddenly, Olivia was on her bed again.
Her actual bed, with citrus sheets and walls that didn’t bend. The room was mostly dark, city light trying its best to slip past her drawn curtains and failing. Olivia was on her stomach, chest heaving against the mattress below her. She felt like she couldn’t breathe as she adjusted to awakeness.
It was stupid, but she could feel the loss of Amanda as if she’d actually been here in this real room doing real things like kissing her and moaning into her mouth. Olivia sat up and scraped her hand across her face, willing her heart to slow down.
Jesus Christ, Rollins, she thought. She started box breathing.
After a few minutes, things finally began to settle in her chest. She frowned, trying to wade through the lingering way her body felt. Eventually, she managed to identify it:
Weighted, disordered, lonely. And horny.