Redemption - 4/? [PG currently]
Title - Redemption
Fandom - Guiding Light
Pairing - Olivia/Natalia (eventually...)
Warnings and/or Spoilers - No spoilers. This is an AU (Alternative Universe) fic, which means some things are the same, but a lot is different.
Summary - Olivia Spencer is falling apart and takes an undercover case in order to ignore her pain. But along with drugs and crooked cops and an unexpected ally, she finds a reason to finally heal and live again. Multi-chapter thing.
Rating - PG currently, hard-R in later chapters
Notes - Damn. I love this. XD
“What? Are you kidding me?”
Olivia crosses her arms and leans against Frank Cooper’s desk. The other officer, Mallet, looks between the two of them, like a kid caught in a parents’ fight.
“It is a simple request, Detective Cooper.”
They watch each other closely, something in their interactions reducing them to animals sizing one another up for the kill.
Mallet releases the smallest of sighs, deciding that it is up to him to calm this situation down.
Not what I became a cop for, breaking up ego wars, but I guess it comes with the job.
He takes this job seriously, wanting to help the town that is his home.
And when hard drugs started showing up, seeping into the community like poison, Mallet wanted to fix the problem.
That’s all a cop is - a big problem solver. I don’t want to deal with this petty crap…
The thought cannot finish because Frank is pushing his chair back roughly and stalking back toward the evidence room. Olivia rolls her eyes and looks at Mallet.
“It’s a good idea. Don’t know what his problem is.”
“Frank feels bad about this whole thing.”
“He shouldn’t take it personally. Bad things happen everywhere.” Olivia says quietly, her gaze turning back to some point on the station wall.
Mallet watches her silently, studying her profile. He is known for being sharp - seeing things that are meant to be hidden. And he can see something heavy weighing Olivia Spencer down.
Frank isn’t the only one taking things personally.
Two zip-lock bags are suddenly tossed onto the desktop and Mallet and Olivia are shaken out of their respective observations.
“Here. Don’t use any of it yourself or anything.”
Olivia snatches the bags up and looks them over, before muttering under her breath.
“Think you could use some.”
Frank opens his mouth to say something and that is when Mallet steps in.
“Right. So, you want to go to one of the places where we’ve made some busts? I can give you directions.” Mallet offers.
“Fine by me.” Olivia answers, already starting to walk back out of the office.
Mallet reaches out quickly and pats Frank’s shoulder.
“It’s not a bad idea, Frank.”
“I know.”
“Then what is up?”
Before Frank can respond, they hear Olivia Spencer shout from the hallway.
“Thanks for the weed, Detective Frank!”
Mallet just winces a little. Frank grits his teeth, thinking of other officers who might have heard and would be asking questions… uncomfortable and unexplainable questions.
The detective and officer look at one another. Frank shakes his head ruefully.
“Mallet, Olivia Spencer is what is up with me.”
/ / /
“You were out all last night! You didn’t call me or let me know anything, Rafe! What do you expect me to do?”
Natalia hates fighting with her son. And they do it often enough, but it used to be about simple and silly things.
Sneaking cookies before dinner, not finishing all his homework, riding his bike too fast or scraping his knee from running and not looking properly… Now, he is growing up and I don’t know how to handle him anymore.
“Ma, I am a man now. Okay? A man. Not a little boy for you to ground!”
“You are just seventeen!”
“I can’t believe this… I can’t believe you!”
Natalia feels tears pushing at the back of her eyes and she fights them back.
How can I get him back? How can I make him understand?
That kicks off the whispering voice inside of Natalia’s head, the one that jumps in and attacks with that old standby - you didn’t give him a father, which is why Rafe is acting out.
She thought about finding Nicky, of trying for some kind of second chance at a father for Rafe…
And a family for me, for the both of us… I wanted a family, the house, the white picket fence.
But as days turned to months and those months turned to years, the urge to find Nicky just faded away. She raised her son the best she could. She made sure Rafe had food and clothes and a roof over his head. She knows that, wherever Nicky is, the man couldn’t have done any better.
“You are always telling me what to do and how to do everything. Just let me live my own life!”
And with that, Rafe tears out of their room. She can hear his feet pounding down the stairs and the slam of the door. On any other day, Natalia would have run after him.
She would have yelled and screamed until blue in the face just to get Rafe to turn around.
But this time, Natalia is wounded by things she cannot alter and things she cannot stop.
I can’t just sing to him or kiss away his pain. I can’t stop him from changing and… moving on…
Natalia crumbles and falls onto the couch, years of weeping finally coming out and leaving her face raw with sorrow.
/ / /
After a night of skulking around the dark streets of Springfield, discovering a surprising enterprise of hookers and that every teenager in a fifty mile radius liked to hang out at some dirty club on this side of town… Olivia Spencer is tired.
And dragging her eyelids down even more is the knowledge that she discovered nothing.
Not a damn thing.
She dressed a little rough for the part, scuffed up and such. But she still got some looks that made her think that she would have to revise her original plan.
Age is a hindrance in those kinds of places. It makes one stand out like a sore thumb.
Not a fucking bite. And now, they all know my face. Great.
Olivia receives her breakfast and pauses a moment as she looks at the young woman setting down her tray, all blonde hair and heavy make-up.
Not Natalia.
She can’t see a reason for that to even cross her mind, so Olivia shakes her head and grabs her cup of liquid gold. She sips her drink and glances for the hundredth time at the police reports.
She looks more closely at the names, at the mug shots and tries to recall anyone fitting these guys.
But under the strobe light and in the shadows, no one looks the same as they do in florescent lighting.
Olivia couldn’t pick one out if she tried.
Fuck. Fuckity fuck.
Tossing the file back into her bag, Olivia shoves the coffee aside.
Right. Time for plan B.
/ / /
Olivia hits the button to the elevator impatiently.
She plans on finally meeting the owner of The Beacon, Cassie Layne, and finding out why the woman is waiting to be bought out.
Could be bad times for the hotel business. Or could be the woman’s nasty coke habit.
Olivia can’t help it, she chuckles quietly to herself.
And, instead of lurking around the other side of the tracks, she is going to stay closer to home.
Sure, drugs have their place in the underbelly of society, but their customers live uptown.
The right word in the right ear about her little stash and Olivia will find a way into the heart of this case.
Find the connection. Find the bad cop. Solve case. Go home.
With a soft dulcet tone, the doors open and Olivia begins to walk in, only to stop short.
It isn’t until the doors start to close on her and then bounce open again that Olivia quickly steps in.
It can’t be that comfortable.
That is the first thought that echoes around Olivia’s brain as she looks at Natalia, the maid, slumped against the elevator wall - asleep.
The elevator begins its slow descent downward and Olivia ponders this situation.
If she is that tired, I should let her get more rest. But… I can’t just let her go up and down in this thing the whole day.
Olivia steps closer, keeping her steps light. She watches the slight movement of eyes under the lids and notices the parted lips, emitting a steady stream of air.
It is in that moment of watching that Natalia’s eyes open.
They flutter several times first and, even though she should look away, Olivia doesn’t.
She watches Natalia come back to the land of the living.
When the woman’s vision comes into focus, those pupils dilate rapidly.
That’s when Olivia realizes that they are standing close to each other.
Too close. I need to back up. Now.
Olivia’s body responds to the order and she is against the back wall of the elevator, facing the doors.
She can feel Natalia looking at her, a mixture of curiosity and embarrassment in that gaze.
“You were asleep. I was going to wake you up.” Olivia says, keeping her entire focus on the doors.
God, how long does it take to get to the lobby? I could have made several trips on the stairs in the time this is taking!
“Uhh, thank you, Ms. Martin. I don’t normally do that.”
“Sleep?”
And they look at each other, equal smiles teasing at their mouths. Natalia rubs a hand over her face tiredly.
“I didn’t get much sleep last night.”
“Oh.”
Olivia finds something inside of her head stall out, not knowing if she should inquire as to why Natalia didn’t sleep or just pretend that that is the end of their elevator chat.
What would Ms. Martin do, eh?
But Olivia knows the answer. ‘Ms. Martin’ would be talkative and personable.
Olivia Spencer can be a lot of the latter, especially if a conquest is involved, sexual or otherwise.
Talkative is not her strong suit, though.
She gives orders or responds to orders. She growls out things. She rages and yells and insults.
Olivia Spencer doesn’t just… talk to someone.
There were times when I wanted to say a lot of things, but no one listened. They just stopped listening to me completely. That’s when I stopped really talking.
‘Ms. Martin’ doesn’t have this baggage. She is just a woman in a new town, maybe she is buying a hotel or just scoping out the competition. She is normal, with no past haunting her or causing her to stumble repeatedly. ‘Ms. Martin’ is a talker.
“Sorry to hear that, Natalia. Why couldn’t you sleep?”
/ / /
TBC
Fandom - Guiding Light
Pairing - Olivia/Natalia (eventually...)
Warnings and/or Spoilers - No spoilers. This is an AU (Alternative Universe) fic, which means some things are the same, but a lot is different.
Summary - Olivia Spencer is falling apart and takes an undercover case in order to ignore her pain. But along with drugs and crooked cops and an unexpected ally, she finds a reason to finally heal and live again. Multi-chapter thing.
Rating - PG currently, hard-R in later chapters
Notes - Damn. I love this. XD
“What? Are you kidding me?”
Olivia crosses her arms and leans against Frank Cooper’s desk. The other officer, Mallet, looks between the two of them, like a kid caught in a parents’ fight.
“It is a simple request, Detective Cooper.”
They watch each other closely, something in their interactions reducing them to animals sizing one another up for the kill.
Mallet releases the smallest of sighs, deciding that it is up to him to calm this situation down.
Not what I became a cop for, breaking up ego wars, but I guess it comes with the job.
He takes this job seriously, wanting to help the town that is his home.
And when hard drugs started showing up, seeping into the community like poison, Mallet wanted to fix the problem.
That’s all a cop is - a big problem solver. I don’t want to deal with this petty crap…
The thought cannot finish because Frank is pushing his chair back roughly and stalking back toward the evidence room. Olivia rolls her eyes and looks at Mallet.
“It’s a good idea. Don’t know what his problem is.”
“Frank feels bad about this whole thing.”
“He shouldn’t take it personally. Bad things happen everywhere.” Olivia says quietly, her gaze turning back to some point on the station wall.
Mallet watches her silently, studying her profile. He is known for being sharp - seeing things that are meant to be hidden. And he can see something heavy weighing Olivia Spencer down.
Frank isn’t the only one taking things personally.
Two zip-lock bags are suddenly tossed onto the desktop and Mallet and Olivia are shaken out of their respective observations.
“Here. Don’t use any of it yourself or anything.”
Olivia snatches the bags up and looks them over, before muttering under her breath.
“Think you could use some.”
Frank opens his mouth to say something and that is when Mallet steps in.
“Right. So, you want to go to one of the places where we’ve made some busts? I can give you directions.” Mallet offers.
“Fine by me.” Olivia answers, already starting to walk back out of the office.
Mallet reaches out quickly and pats Frank’s shoulder.
“It’s not a bad idea, Frank.”
“I know.”
“Then what is up?”
Before Frank can respond, they hear Olivia Spencer shout from the hallway.
“Thanks for the weed, Detective Frank!”
Mallet just winces a little. Frank grits his teeth, thinking of other officers who might have heard and would be asking questions… uncomfortable and unexplainable questions.
The detective and officer look at one another. Frank shakes his head ruefully.
“Mallet, Olivia Spencer is what is up with me.”
/ / /
“You were out all last night! You didn’t call me or let me know anything, Rafe! What do you expect me to do?”
Natalia hates fighting with her son. And they do it often enough, but it used to be about simple and silly things.
Sneaking cookies before dinner, not finishing all his homework, riding his bike too fast or scraping his knee from running and not looking properly… Now, he is growing up and I don’t know how to handle him anymore.
“Ma, I am a man now. Okay? A man. Not a little boy for you to ground!”
“You are just seventeen!”
“I can’t believe this… I can’t believe you!”
Natalia feels tears pushing at the back of her eyes and she fights them back.
How can I get him back? How can I make him understand?
That kicks off the whispering voice inside of Natalia’s head, the one that jumps in and attacks with that old standby - you didn’t give him a father, which is why Rafe is acting out.
She thought about finding Nicky, of trying for some kind of second chance at a father for Rafe…
And a family for me, for the both of us… I wanted a family, the house, the white picket fence.
But as days turned to months and those months turned to years, the urge to find Nicky just faded away. She raised her son the best she could. She made sure Rafe had food and clothes and a roof over his head. She knows that, wherever Nicky is, the man couldn’t have done any better.
“You are always telling me what to do and how to do everything. Just let me live my own life!”
And with that, Rafe tears out of their room. She can hear his feet pounding down the stairs and the slam of the door. On any other day, Natalia would have run after him.
She would have yelled and screamed until blue in the face just to get Rafe to turn around.
But this time, Natalia is wounded by things she cannot alter and things she cannot stop.
I can’t just sing to him or kiss away his pain. I can’t stop him from changing and… moving on…
Natalia crumbles and falls onto the couch, years of weeping finally coming out and leaving her face raw with sorrow.
/ / /
After a night of skulking around the dark streets of Springfield, discovering a surprising enterprise of hookers and that every teenager in a fifty mile radius liked to hang out at some dirty club on this side of town… Olivia Spencer is tired.
And dragging her eyelids down even more is the knowledge that she discovered nothing.
Not a damn thing.
She dressed a little rough for the part, scuffed up and such. But she still got some looks that made her think that she would have to revise her original plan.
Age is a hindrance in those kinds of places. It makes one stand out like a sore thumb.
Not a fucking bite. And now, they all know my face. Great.
Olivia receives her breakfast and pauses a moment as she looks at the young woman setting down her tray, all blonde hair and heavy make-up.
Not Natalia.
She can’t see a reason for that to even cross her mind, so Olivia shakes her head and grabs her cup of liquid gold. She sips her drink and glances for the hundredth time at the police reports.
She looks more closely at the names, at the mug shots and tries to recall anyone fitting these guys.
But under the strobe light and in the shadows, no one looks the same as they do in florescent lighting.
Olivia couldn’t pick one out if she tried.
Fuck. Fuckity fuck.
Tossing the file back into her bag, Olivia shoves the coffee aside.
Right. Time for plan B.
/ / /
Olivia hits the button to the elevator impatiently.
She plans on finally meeting the owner of The Beacon, Cassie Layne, and finding out why the woman is waiting to be bought out.
Could be bad times for the hotel business. Or could be the woman’s nasty coke habit.
Olivia can’t help it, she chuckles quietly to herself.
And, instead of lurking around the other side of the tracks, she is going to stay closer to home.
Sure, drugs have their place in the underbelly of society, but their customers live uptown.
The right word in the right ear about her little stash and Olivia will find a way into the heart of this case.
Find the connection. Find the bad cop. Solve case. Go home.
With a soft dulcet tone, the doors open and Olivia begins to walk in, only to stop short.
It isn’t until the doors start to close on her and then bounce open again that Olivia quickly steps in.
It can’t be that comfortable.
That is the first thought that echoes around Olivia’s brain as she looks at Natalia, the maid, slumped against the elevator wall - asleep.
The elevator begins its slow descent downward and Olivia ponders this situation.
If she is that tired, I should let her get more rest. But… I can’t just let her go up and down in this thing the whole day.
Olivia steps closer, keeping her steps light. She watches the slight movement of eyes under the lids and notices the parted lips, emitting a steady stream of air.
It is in that moment of watching that Natalia’s eyes open.
They flutter several times first and, even though she should look away, Olivia doesn’t.
She watches Natalia come back to the land of the living.
When the woman’s vision comes into focus, those pupils dilate rapidly.
That’s when Olivia realizes that they are standing close to each other.
Too close. I need to back up. Now.
Olivia’s body responds to the order and she is against the back wall of the elevator, facing the doors.
She can feel Natalia looking at her, a mixture of curiosity and embarrassment in that gaze.
“You were asleep. I was going to wake you up.” Olivia says, keeping her entire focus on the doors.
God, how long does it take to get to the lobby? I could have made several trips on the stairs in the time this is taking!
“Uhh, thank you, Ms. Martin. I don’t normally do that.”
“Sleep?”
And they look at each other, equal smiles teasing at their mouths. Natalia rubs a hand over her face tiredly.
“I didn’t get much sleep last night.”
“Oh.”
Olivia finds something inside of her head stall out, not knowing if she should inquire as to why Natalia didn’t sleep or just pretend that that is the end of their elevator chat.
What would Ms. Martin do, eh?
But Olivia knows the answer. ‘Ms. Martin’ would be talkative and personable.
Olivia Spencer can be a lot of the latter, especially if a conquest is involved, sexual or otherwise.
Talkative is not her strong suit, though.
She gives orders or responds to orders. She growls out things. She rages and yells and insults.
Olivia Spencer doesn’t just… talk to someone.
There were times when I wanted to say a lot of things, but no one listened. They just stopped listening to me completely. That’s when I stopped really talking.
‘Ms. Martin’ doesn’t have this baggage. She is just a woman in a new town, maybe she is buying a hotel or just scoping out the competition. She is normal, with no past haunting her or causing her to stumble repeatedly. ‘Ms. Martin’ is a talker.
“Sorry to hear that, Natalia. Why couldn’t you sleep?”
/ / /
TBC