Once Upon a Dream 48a/?
Title: Once Upon a Dream 48a/?
Author: Kelinswriter
Fandom: Guiding Light
Pairing: Olivia/Natalia
Rating: NC-17 (for lots of things)
Summary: Starts with the infamous scene with the OPT Pregnancy Test. Spins off from there into its own little universe.
Disclaimer: CBS, P&G, Telenext et. al. owns these characters; I'm just taking them off the shelf and playing with them for a while.
WARNING DANGER READ AT YOUR OWN RISK: References to sexual assault and its aftermath will be a part of this story moving forward. Please consider yourselves fully notified.
Chapters 1-11
Chapters 12-19
Chapters 20-29
Chapters 30-40
41
42
43
44
45
46
47
Olivia spent most of the morning sitting on the prow of the ship, watching the boat dance over the waves. Sometimes she would close her eyes so she could listen to the water lapping, the rigging creaking in the wind while the sun beat down on her face. The sounds and the heat lulled her, bringing back memories of her childhood, how her father would take her out in the little skiff he kept tied up at the dock near their house. There are some good memories, she thought as she felt the boat move beneath her, the steady thrum of the engines as constant as her own heartbeat. A few things I can look back on and not wish I could forget.
She opened her eyes, and for a fleeting instant, she caught sight of Natalia sitting beside her, dark hair fluttering in the breeze. Olivia's breath caught, her heart slamming into overdrive as she watched Natalia turn her face up to the sun. "It's beautiful," Natalia said, her face alight with joy. Then the illusion faded, the sensation of Natalia's fingers covering her hand slipping away from her like the brush of cobwebs against her skin.
For an instant, the sense of loss was overwhelming. "When you start seeing mirages, it's time to go inside," Olivia told herself, and yet she lingered a while longer, savoring the peace that even her hallucination could not quell. For the first time in weeks, there was no battle to fight and nothing to accomplish. This can't last, she thought as she watched a pair of dolphins pace the ship, leaping over the breaking waves, then diving below the surface only to pop up and repeat the maneuver. Natalia would tell me there's no point in squandering this time, so I might as well enjoy the respite.
When the sun and the spray had sunk deep into her bones, she went below, intending to take a nap. She found Rafe laying on the couch in the main cabin, an open can of Diet Sprite in the cupholder beside him. He had the TV on.
Olivia glanced at the screen, noting that most of the panel's 42 inches was taken up by Johnny Depp in pirate garb. "Doing research on the local customs?"
Rafe shrugged, but Olivia noted his eyes crinkling, as if he was considering smiling at the comment. "I couldn't lay in there any more. Thought maybe this would take my mind off -" He broke off abruptly, his face twisted by some strong emotion. He clamped down hard on it, his usual mask of indifference slamming back into place. "Things. Being sick."
Olivia nodded, biting the inside of her lip while she struggled to keep her reaction off her face. He can't handle that right now, she thought as she looked down at Natalia's son, seeing all the signs of pain that she had written off as the sulking of a petulant child. Any kindness I show him he will interpret as pity. And that's the one thing I know for sure he cannot bear.
"Do you need anything?" she asked. "I could make you some toast, maybe some eggs if you think you could handle it."
"I had some cereal a little while ago." Rafe's eyes strayed to the buxom cleavage on display on the screen. "I didn't throw it back up, so I figure that's progress."
"It is." Olivia hesitated a moment, waiting to see if Rafe intended to continue. It looked as though he was going to say more, but then something exploded onscreen, and she knew further conversation was pointless. "I'm going to take a nap. If you need anything, wake me up."
Rafe nodded, his dark eyes focused on the TV, though she couldn't help but feel them trail after her as she entered the stateroom. She kicked off her shoes and ditched her jeans, noting a faint smell of sickness lingering in the air as she slid under the quilt. She was pretty sure she didn't want to look too closely at conditions on the other side of the bed, but before she could consider whether it would be wise to take some antiseptic to the room, the rocking of the boat drew her down into sleep.
She awoke several hours later to a shout of "Land ahoy, Papí!" coming from above. She sat up, her body slow to shake off the feeling that arms had been wrapped around her, that she had been cradled against a slender form, soft words of love whispered in her ear while she slept. Definitely hallucinating, she thought as she stretched, feeling rested in a way she hadn't been since probably the morning of the Fourth of July. When this is all over, I'm going to need to sleep for a month. She couldn't help but smile at the memory of Natalia saying those words, of her post-surgical grumpiness, so reasonable and expected, yet so strangely adorable. She remembered that first bath, how shy of each other they had been, the aching sweetness that ran through her as she first stroked the washcloth over Natalia's skin. Seems crazy to think of those days in the hospital as some of the best we ever had. And yet I would give anything to be able to hold you and take care of you like I did that night.
Mano's voice calling out instructions to Cardo broke her out of her reverie. Rising, she went into the head and took a brief shower, then changed into clean clothes - her brown short-sleeved shirt and a clean pair of jeans. Packing up her gear, she did a quick inventory to make certain that the most important items - the diamonds, Natalia's cross, her gun - were still where they belonged. As she was reorganizing, she found the framed photo of she, Natalia, and Emma from New Year's Eve that she had impulsively shoved in her bag before leaving The Beacon. She stared at it for a long while, seeing the love shining off of all of them, even back then. We will have that again, she thought as she put the picture away. We have to.
When she emerged into the sunlight, she noted that Cardo was out on deck, taking the sails down with Rafe's help. Mano was in the cockpit, a pair of aviator sunglasses covering his eyes, his dark, curly hair billowing in the brisk breeze. He grinned at her as she emerged, nodding his head toward the wheel. "You want to take her until we reach the channel?"
"Sure," Olivia said, her eyes automatically checking the horizon. Her first glimpse of the island of her birth was like a visceral blow, a hard reminder of just how much of her history had been shaped by this tiny chunk of land. As she stared toward the gray-green bulk rearing up on the horizon, it slowly resolved into recognizable features - the white beaches of the northern shore yielding to the green slopes of the hills, then to the craggy cliffs of the Montañas de Truenos, the mountain range that formed the central spine of the island. If she squinted, she could just make out Mount San Cristobel, the dormant volcano that was the island's highest point. Behind them, the land curved, opening into the bay that had made that part of the island such a prized natural harbor for centuries. Smoke billowed, and by following it, she was able to make out a freighter steaming out of the harbor that she had helped build, the project on which so many of her future hopes had rested. Funny how unimportant that seems now, she thought as she slid in behind the wheel while Mano murmured the course and heading into her ear. This place that once was the center of my universe is now nothing but a means to an end.
"We're going straight to the cove?" she asked when she noted that their course was taking them toward the island's eastern end.
Mano nodded. "It's easier to get you in that way. You'll bunk with us tonight, and tomorrow morning we'll figure out where we're headed."
"To the city, I'd imagine," Olivia said. "I assumed my first stop would be at Mother Isabelle's."
Mano's mouth twisted sideways in a cocky grin. "It's like we're the same, you and I."
"Great minds and all that." Olivia gave him a knowing look. "She still bossing the entire island around?"
"If you mean being her wise, mothering self, then yes." The affection on Mano's face was hard to contain. "I'm pretty sure Cardo and Rosa would not be here without her helping Ty through her last two pregnancies."
"She's good at keeping women pregnant," Olivia said, a dark edge threading her words. Painful memories slipped unbidden to the forefront of her mind - of going to the Creole quarter of the city, seeking out the wise woman who everyone said could help a girl in trouble. Mother Isabelle had barely earned the name then - she was perhaps twelve years older than Olivia, her dark skin not yet lined, her jet black hair hanging in long rows that she gathered at the nape of her neck with a shining silver clasp. Isabelle had known what Olivia would ask the moment she looked at her, had seen the pain in her eyes. I know what you want, child, she had murmured as she clasped Olivia's wrists between her long-fingered hands, her accent -a thick San Cristobel Creole refined by an overlay of Oxford education - swirling like honey in Olivia's ears. I know what he did, and I know what it cost you. But the child will be your salvation. Olivia had stumbled home from the meeting to a house newly devoid of her mother's voice and locked herself in her room for weeks, her last hope for a quick escape from the consequences of her disobedience shattered. She understood what the woman had meant now - how Ava had been, in many ways, her salvation, or at least an important step along the way - but at the time, it had been the final nail in the coffin of her youth.
"If anyone knows where the antidote can be found, it's her," Mano said, studiously ignoring Olivia's reaction to his previous words. "She might even have some."
"I thought about trying to get in touch with her from Springfield, but I was afraid if I did, Edmund would trace the call and come after her," Olivia replied. "I didn't want to take the chance."
"You clearly weren't as worried about me," Mano said with a snort. Olivia glanced at him, seeing the amusement on his face.
"I didn't have to be," she drawled. "Unless your superspy skills have gotten so rusty that you no longer have a secure phone."
"No, it's secure," Mano replied, a hint of something wistful seeping into his voice. "It has to be."
They lapsed into silence, and for several minutes, Olivia was once again lost in the sights and sounds of being on a ship at sea. When Natalia is healthy we'll come down here and spend a week taking a proper cruise, she thought as she made a minor course correction to adjust for the wind swirling in from the west. A week bouncing from island to island, lots of good food, afternoon siestas in that bed below…
She felt Mano's hand tap her shoulder. "Drifting a little there, Spencer. Distracted by something?"
"Vacation plans," Olivia said, quickly adjusting the wheel. "You booked in September?"
"I'm sure I could find some room in the schedule." Mano squinted at the rapidly closing island, then jerked his head to one side. "Time for me to take over."
Olivia quickly switched places with him, feeling the boat rock under her feet as Mano adjusted course. The light was changing, shadows lengthening on the island's slopes as the sun shifted further behind them. Now that they had rounded the eastern tip of the island, the cliffs were jagged, sheer walls of whitish-tan rock with little to no vegetation. On top was a plethora of thick greenery - the eastern jungles had been left virtually untouched, with only a few settlements further inland to service the needs of the cane farmers who worked the flat, level fields of the plateau. There were no resort hotels on this side of the island, only a few fishing settlements. It was a no man's land to some, a paradise to others - and to Mano, it was home.
The engines slowed, and Olivia watched Mano's face light up as he navigated around the reef that protected this side of the island. Olivia noted a bright shaft of orange sunlight flaring atop the looming promontory, almost as if the cliff were on fire. Windows, she thought as her eyes adjusted. It might as well be a lighthouse guiding him home.
The brightness faded as the boat drew closer, and Olivia was better able to make out the structure atop the cliff. It was a simple white clapboard house with a huge swath of windows facing east and a large covered porch on its southern end. A road snaked down the cliff, twisting and turning until it ended at the beach and a long pier jutting out into the water. Mano slowed the engines further, just as a dusty, beat up black jeep pulled up next to the pier.
"Is that Ty?" Olivia asked when she saw a figure hop out of the vehicle and start to walk onto to the pier.
"No, that's Rosa," Mano said, giving a proud smile as the slender figure gave a shout. "Ty is up there."
He gestured toward the cliffs in front of the house, and Olivia realized that a woman was standing at their edge, her multicolored dress swirling around her legs while a long mane of golden hair billowed in the evening breeze. The woman touched her hand to her mouth, then raised it in greeting.
"I see she hasn't lost her flair for the dramatic," Olivia said, her words only lightly dusted with sarcasm.
"Mostly she does it because she knows it makes me crazy to see her standing on the edge of the cliff like that." Mano put a hand to his lips, then raised it in turn. "The lady likes to jerk my chain."
Olivia couldn't help but laugh. "I think that's called being in love."
"About time you figured that out." Mano pulled down his sunglasses to meet her eyes, amusement dancing across his features when he realized that Olivia was without retort. "Go help Cardo man the lines, will you? I'd like to get the boat secure before dinner gets cold."
Author: Kelinswriter
Fandom: Guiding Light
Pairing: Olivia/Natalia
Rating: NC-17 (for lots of things)
Summary: Starts with the infamous scene with the OPT Pregnancy Test. Spins off from there into its own little universe.
Disclaimer: CBS, P&G, Telenext et. al. owns these characters; I'm just taking them off the shelf and playing with them for a while.
WARNING DANGER READ AT YOUR OWN RISK: References to sexual assault and its aftermath will be a part of this story moving forward. Please consider yourselves fully notified.
Chapters 1-11
Chapters 12-19
Chapters 20-29
Chapters 30-40
41
42
43
44
45
46
47
Olivia spent most of the morning sitting on the prow of the ship, watching the boat dance over the waves. Sometimes she would close her eyes so she could listen to the water lapping, the rigging creaking in the wind while the sun beat down on her face. The sounds and the heat lulled her, bringing back memories of her childhood, how her father would take her out in the little skiff he kept tied up at the dock near their house. There are some good memories, she thought as she felt the boat move beneath her, the steady thrum of the engines as constant as her own heartbeat. A few things I can look back on and not wish I could forget.
She opened her eyes, and for a fleeting instant, she caught sight of Natalia sitting beside her, dark hair fluttering in the breeze. Olivia's breath caught, her heart slamming into overdrive as she watched Natalia turn her face up to the sun. "It's beautiful," Natalia said, her face alight with joy. Then the illusion faded, the sensation of Natalia's fingers covering her hand slipping away from her like the brush of cobwebs against her skin.
For an instant, the sense of loss was overwhelming. "When you start seeing mirages, it's time to go inside," Olivia told herself, and yet she lingered a while longer, savoring the peace that even her hallucination could not quell. For the first time in weeks, there was no battle to fight and nothing to accomplish. This can't last, she thought as she watched a pair of dolphins pace the ship, leaping over the breaking waves, then diving below the surface only to pop up and repeat the maneuver. Natalia would tell me there's no point in squandering this time, so I might as well enjoy the respite.
When the sun and the spray had sunk deep into her bones, she went below, intending to take a nap. She found Rafe laying on the couch in the main cabin, an open can of Diet Sprite in the cupholder beside him. He had the TV on.
Olivia glanced at the screen, noting that most of the panel's 42 inches was taken up by Johnny Depp in pirate garb. "Doing research on the local customs?"
Rafe shrugged, but Olivia noted his eyes crinkling, as if he was considering smiling at the comment. "I couldn't lay in there any more. Thought maybe this would take my mind off -" He broke off abruptly, his face twisted by some strong emotion. He clamped down hard on it, his usual mask of indifference slamming back into place. "Things. Being sick."
Olivia nodded, biting the inside of her lip while she struggled to keep her reaction off her face. He can't handle that right now, she thought as she looked down at Natalia's son, seeing all the signs of pain that she had written off as the sulking of a petulant child. Any kindness I show him he will interpret as pity. And that's the one thing I know for sure he cannot bear.
"Do you need anything?" she asked. "I could make you some toast, maybe some eggs if you think you could handle it."
"I had some cereal a little while ago." Rafe's eyes strayed to the buxom cleavage on display on the screen. "I didn't throw it back up, so I figure that's progress."
"It is." Olivia hesitated a moment, waiting to see if Rafe intended to continue. It looked as though he was going to say more, but then something exploded onscreen, and she knew further conversation was pointless. "I'm going to take a nap. If you need anything, wake me up."
Rafe nodded, his dark eyes focused on the TV, though she couldn't help but feel them trail after her as she entered the stateroom. She kicked off her shoes and ditched her jeans, noting a faint smell of sickness lingering in the air as she slid under the quilt. She was pretty sure she didn't want to look too closely at conditions on the other side of the bed, but before she could consider whether it would be wise to take some antiseptic to the room, the rocking of the boat drew her down into sleep.
She awoke several hours later to a shout of "Land ahoy, Papí!" coming from above. She sat up, her body slow to shake off the feeling that arms had been wrapped around her, that she had been cradled against a slender form, soft words of love whispered in her ear while she slept. Definitely hallucinating, she thought as she stretched, feeling rested in a way she hadn't been since probably the morning of the Fourth of July. When this is all over, I'm going to need to sleep for a month. She couldn't help but smile at the memory of Natalia saying those words, of her post-surgical grumpiness, so reasonable and expected, yet so strangely adorable. She remembered that first bath, how shy of each other they had been, the aching sweetness that ran through her as she first stroked the washcloth over Natalia's skin. Seems crazy to think of those days in the hospital as some of the best we ever had. And yet I would give anything to be able to hold you and take care of you like I did that night.
Mano's voice calling out instructions to Cardo broke her out of her reverie. Rising, she went into the head and took a brief shower, then changed into clean clothes - her brown short-sleeved shirt and a clean pair of jeans. Packing up her gear, she did a quick inventory to make certain that the most important items - the diamonds, Natalia's cross, her gun - were still where they belonged. As she was reorganizing, she found the framed photo of she, Natalia, and Emma from New Year's Eve that she had impulsively shoved in her bag before leaving The Beacon. She stared at it for a long while, seeing the love shining off of all of them, even back then. We will have that again, she thought as she put the picture away. We have to.
When she emerged into the sunlight, she noted that Cardo was out on deck, taking the sails down with Rafe's help. Mano was in the cockpit, a pair of aviator sunglasses covering his eyes, his dark, curly hair billowing in the brisk breeze. He grinned at her as she emerged, nodding his head toward the wheel. "You want to take her until we reach the channel?"
"Sure," Olivia said, her eyes automatically checking the horizon. Her first glimpse of the island of her birth was like a visceral blow, a hard reminder of just how much of her history had been shaped by this tiny chunk of land. As she stared toward the gray-green bulk rearing up on the horizon, it slowly resolved into recognizable features - the white beaches of the northern shore yielding to the green slopes of the hills, then to the craggy cliffs of the Montañas de Truenos, the mountain range that formed the central spine of the island. If she squinted, she could just make out Mount San Cristobel, the dormant volcano that was the island's highest point. Behind them, the land curved, opening into the bay that had made that part of the island such a prized natural harbor for centuries. Smoke billowed, and by following it, she was able to make out a freighter steaming out of the harbor that she had helped build, the project on which so many of her future hopes had rested. Funny how unimportant that seems now, she thought as she slid in behind the wheel while Mano murmured the course and heading into her ear. This place that once was the center of my universe is now nothing but a means to an end.
"We're going straight to the cove?" she asked when she noted that their course was taking them toward the island's eastern end.
Mano nodded. "It's easier to get you in that way. You'll bunk with us tonight, and tomorrow morning we'll figure out where we're headed."
"To the city, I'd imagine," Olivia said. "I assumed my first stop would be at Mother Isabelle's."
Mano's mouth twisted sideways in a cocky grin. "It's like we're the same, you and I."
"Great minds and all that." Olivia gave him a knowing look. "She still bossing the entire island around?"
"If you mean being her wise, mothering self, then yes." The affection on Mano's face was hard to contain. "I'm pretty sure Cardo and Rosa would not be here without her helping Ty through her last two pregnancies."
"She's good at keeping women pregnant," Olivia said, a dark edge threading her words. Painful memories slipped unbidden to the forefront of her mind - of going to the Creole quarter of the city, seeking out the wise woman who everyone said could help a girl in trouble. Mother Isabelle had barely earned the name then - she was perhaps twelve years older than Olivia, her dark skin not yet lined, her jet black hair hanging in long rows that she gathered at the nape of her neck with a shining silver clasp. Isabelle had known what Olivia would ask the moment she looked at her, had seen the pain in her eyes. I know what you want, child, she had murmured as she clasped Olivia's wrists between her long-fingered hands, her accent -a thick San Cristobel Creole refined by an overlay of Oxford education - swirling like honey in Olivia's ears. I know what he did, and I know what it cost you. But the child will be your salvation. Olivia had stumbled home from the meeting to a house newly devoid of her mother's voice and locked herself in her room for weeks, her last hope for a quick escape from the consequences of her disobedience shattered. She understood what the woman had meant now - how Ava had been, in many ways, her salvation, or at least an important step along the way - but at the time, it had been the final nail in the coffin of her youth.
"If anyone knows where the antidote can be found, it's her," Mano said, studiously ignoring Olivia's reaction to his previous words. "She might even have some."
"I thought about trying to get in touch with her from Springfield, but I was afraid if I did, Edmund would trace the call and come after her," Olivia replied. "I didn't want to take the chance."
"You clearly weren't as worried about me," Mano said with a snort. Olivia glanced at him, seeing the amusement on his face.
"I didn't have to be," she drawled. "Unless your superspy skills have gotten so rusty that you no longer have a secure phone."
"No, it's secure," Mano replied, a hint of something wistful seeping into his voice. "It has to be."
They lapsed into silence, and for several minutes, Olivia was once again lost in the sights and sounds of being on a ship at sea. When Natalia is healthy we'll come down here and spend a week taking a proper cruise, she thought as she made a minor course correction to adjust for the wind swirling in from the west. A week bouncing from island to island, lots of good food, afternoon siestas in that bed below…
She felt Mano's hand tap her shoulder. "Drifting a little there, Spencer. Distracted by something?"
"Vacation plans," Olivia said, quickly adjusting the wheel. "You booked in September?"
"I'm sure I could find some room in the schedule." Mano squinted at the rapidly closing island, then jerked his head to one side. "Time for me to take over."
Olivia quickly switched places with him, feeling the boat rock under her feet as Mano adjusted course. The light was changing, shadows lengthening on the island's slopes as the sun shifted further behind them. Now that they had rounded the eastern tip of the island, the cliffs were jagged, sheer walls of whitish-tan rock with little to no vegetation. On top was a plethora of thick greenery - the eastern jungles had been left virtually untouched, with only a few settlements further inland to service the needs of the cane farmers who worked the flat, level fields of the plateau. There were no resort hotels on this side of the island, only a few fishing settlements. It was a no man's land to some, a paradise to others - and to Mano, it was home.
The engines slowed, and Olivia watched Mano's face light up as he navigated around the reef that protected this side of the island. Olivia noted a bright shaft of orange sunlight flaring atop the looming promontory, almost as if the cliff were on fire. Windows, she thought as her eyes adjusted. It might as well be a lighthouse guiding him home.
The brightness faded as the boat drew closer, and Olivia was better able to make out the structure atop the cliff. It was a simple white clapboard house with a huge swath of windows facing east and a large covered porch on its southern end. A road snaked down the cliff, twisting and turning until it ended at the beach and a long pier jutting out into the water. Mano slowed the engines further, just as a dusty, beat up black jeep pulled up next to the pier.
"Is that Ty?" Olivia asked when she saw a figure hop out of the vehicle and start to walk onto to the pier.
"No, that's Rosa," Mano said, giving a proud smile as the slender figure gave a shout. "Ty is up there."
He gestured toward the cliffs in front of the house, and Olivia realized that a woman was standing at their edge, her multicolored dress swirling around her legs while a long mane of golden hair billowed in the evening breeze. The woman touched her hand to her mouth, then raised it in greeting.
"I see she hasn't lost her flair for the dramatic," Olivia said, her words only lightly dusted with sarcasm.
"Mostly she does it because she knows it makes me crazy to see her standing on the edge of the cliff like that." Mano put a hand to his lips, then raised it in turn. "The lady likes to jerk my chain."
Olivia couldn't help but laugh. "I think that's called being in love."
"About time you figured that out." Mano pulled down his sunglasses to meet her eyes, amusement dancing across his features when he realized that Olivia was without retort. "Go help Cardo man the lines, will you? I'd like to get the boat secure before dinner gets cold."