Chapter Text
Amanda was late to work. Again. This wasn’t a good start.
Olivia was rushing out to interview a victim when the two of them collided in the street outside the 1-6. As Amanda was currently her partner, Olivia was relieved that she wasn’t going to have to go alone after all.
They both muttered apologies as they crashed and Olivia filled Amanda in on their mission this morning, while helping to gather the contents of Amanda’s bag that had spilled out onto the pavement.
Amanda quickly tried to pick everything up herself, but the universe was not on her side and, as she grabbed her wallet, a lipstick tried to make a run for it. Chasing down the little perp in hot pursuit, Amanda forgot the other contents for just long enough for Olivia pick up the book that she was currently in the middle of.
As Olivia was a keen reader herself, she couldn’t resist checking out the cover and the name of the author rang familiar for some reason, so she flipped the book over to read the blurb.
What she read surprised her. The author’s name suddenly made the connection in Olivia’s head in context.
Rita Mae Brown. She was famous for something else, Olivia remembered. Brown’s relationship with Martina Navratilova had made headlines a couple of decades ago, forcing Navratilova to come out as a lesbian in a world that still found that scandalous.
Rubyfruit Jungle, the title read. A novel about being different and loving it.
Molly Bolt. She’s just another dirt poor, little ole Southern girl who played doctor with the boys, beat up Leroy the fat, sloppy tub…and lost her virginity to her girlfriend in the sixth grade…
Molly Bolt. She’s funny, reckless, gutsy and wild. A full-blooded, all-American, 100% true-blue gay—and proud of it!
The realisation that this was a lesbian novel had already occurred Olivia before Amanda’s hand quickly snatched the book and shoved it back in her bag, uttering a curt “I’ll take that”.
Olivia’s first thought was simply, “Oh,” before starting to unpack what the book’s contents meant in the context of Amanda’s choice of reading material. Amanda’s obvious embarrassment at Olivia seeing it in her possession probably meant that Amanda herself was gay and unwilling to out herself, but, obviously, it was too late now.
Amanda tried to mask her discomfort at the exposure with irritation. “So, are we going or are you just gonna stand here gawping all day?” she snapped.
“Sorry. Yeah, let’s go,” Olivia recovered herself and led the way to the squad car.
It was a tense 20 minute drive, with Olivia unsure of how to raise the elephant in the car.
“I—uh—didn’t mean to invade your privacy, Amanda. I’m sorry if I made you feel uncomfortable,” she finally blurted out, eyes still on the road.
Amanda shifted in her seat. “Yeah, well forget it. It was probably going to come out sooner or later anyway,” she sighed.
“Just, can you please not tell everybody yet? I don’t know the team that well and I’d just as soon people got to know me before they labeled me.”
It dawned on Olivia then how much the knowledge of Amanda’s sexuality could affect the young detective’s position in the squad and how important this was to her new colleague.
Olivia felt, then, a deep sense of responsibility to keep Amanda’s secret until such time as she wished to disclose this very personal information.
“Amanda, I understand completely. I won’t say a thing.”
Amanda felt a tiny bit of relief with that reassurance, but it wasn’t going to be enough to erase the overwhelming anxiety that was storming inside her.
She couldn’t believe she’d been so stupid as to leave that book in her bag. Anyone could have seen it if they looked too carefully, she realised.
No more reading in public spaces, even in New York, she mused. She’d thought she might be able to relax a little having left Atlanta.
She was mortified that Olivia knew. Amanda knew Olivia would never look at her the same way again.
Amanda was also terrified that Olivia would find out that Amanda’s feelings for her were deeper than that of friendship or mere co-worker.
If Olivia realised that, well, Amanda would probably have to transfer out.
As it was, Olivia didn’t even seem to like her.
Amanda figured that she and Nick were probably just a constant reminder to Olivia that Stabler was gone and never coming back, and it was obvious that his leaving was extremely painful for Olivia. They must’ve been incredibly close, even for partners.
She probably wouldn’t even be able to talk to Olivia now without the fear of being seen as coming on to her.
Every look, every comment would be scrutinised now. Amanda would really have to watch herself.
Olivia’s thoughts, on the other hand, had gone in a quite different direction. She was musing on her relationship with Alex Cabot, something that she had never really wanted to analyse until now.
She realised that she’d pulled away from Alex at times, telling herself that Alex was just drunk or being really friendly and that she shouldn’t respond to anything because, in the light of day, Alex would probably be embarrassed.
But what if Alex had been using those moments to let Olivia know that she was interested? Was she missing her subtle advances and hurting Alex rather than saving her from later regrets?
How did she feel about Alex really? She certainly had been tempted to respond into those moments when they occurred. Alex was extremely attractive, magnetic even.
Olivia loved their debates; Alex’s intellect and insight. The way she searched for loopholes while remaining true to the intent of the law to find justice. They had battled for victims’ rights side by side, and commiserated afterwards over drinks and dinners.
Occasionally they even did something more social, just enjoying the each other’s company; spending time with someone who didn’t freak out about their professional focus, the passion they shared for their work.
Were those…dates? It always felt so natural being with Alex.
Olivia wasn’t sure what to do with these questions. She’d always seen herself as straight, although other people had suggested otherwise on the street sometimes. She just thought it was because she had to be a tough cop at times.
This was…confusing.
“Amanda? About that book you’re reading?” she ventured carefully.
Amanda visibly shrank in her seat.
“Olivia—please. I’d sooner you forgot that you saw it. I really don’t want to talk about it.”
“Oh—no—I just wanted to ask…could I borrow it when you’re finished reading it?”