Life and Breath Part 12
Title: Life and Breath
Author: Pink Rabbit Productions
Fandom: Guiding Light
Pairing: Olivia/Natalia
Part: 12
Date: 10 July, 2009
Rating: Personally, I'd call it an R, but some might consider it NC-17 at some point.
Disclaimer: The characters and situations belong to other folks far wealthier, more important (or at least with better lawyers), and hopefully more charitable and kinder than I. They include, but are not necessarily limited to CBS, Proctor and Gamble, and Telenext. The actual arrangement of words, however, remains my own as do any original characters. Meanwhile, there is likely to be all female romantic and sexual activity ahead, so if this is likely to get you, me, or anybody else arrested should you take a gander, please move along. Also, if you find that sort of thing offensive, you really probably shouldn't hang around anyplace I'm posting. Just sayin'....
Archiving: The Pink Rabbit Consortium
Spoilers: Some early scenes definitely, plus anything through the spa trip is fair game.
Timeline: Unlike some folks, I don't have an exact scene where this one takes off. However, it's definitely set after the spa trip, but before Rafe's release from the halfway house. Oh, and it's after Natalia admits she's in love with Olivia to Father Ray.
Earlier Parts: | Part 1 (Prologue) | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 |
Life and Breath
by Pink Rabbit Productions
Part 12
Frank Cooper felt like his head was going to explode so fierce was the exhaustion headache burning behind his eyes. He'd barely slept in the last thirty-six hours, running on coffee and adrenaline until it was getting harder and harder to think straight. For a little while, he'd had it all worked out in his head, then the doubts had started to creep in as he couldn't quite make the puzzle pieces fit, and he'd started to think maybe he was seeing shapes in the clouds to even remotely think that Natalia could be some kind of con artist.
Which was why he was so grateful for a voice of sanity to reassure him he hadn't lost his mind and to help make sense out of chaos of his own thoughts.
"Whoa," Jim Barron exhaled as he stared at Frank in shock.
Frank had barely sat down at the same table they'd shared on their first meeting when he'd started talking, opening up to the other detective between long swigs of beer in a way he couldn't to Mallet or the other cops in his squadroom. He'd told the other man everything, every sad, embarrassing, pathetic detail from the way Natalia had blown into town and stolen Gus away from Harley, to Gus' death and Olivia's resulting survival, to his own aborted wedding and discovery of just why Natalia had supposedly left him at the altar.
Barron was easy to talk to. He mostly just listened, but when he did say something, it was always supportive and understanding. It made it easier just knowing he'd been through it, knew what it was like to be embarrassed and taken advantage of by a woman he thought loved him.
"Whoa," Barron said again after a beat. He shook his head, visibly struggling to take it all in. "You really think this Natalia Rivera is Emily Sotero?"
At which point, Frank was off and running again, repeating the story of how Natalia had gone after Gus, whose father was rich and powerful, only Gus had died and Alan wound up on the skids, and there wasn't much money to be made on that front.
"...and there was Olivia...and her failing heart..." Frank snarled, his lip curling bitterly, "...and her money...and so needy." He took another swallow of beer. It didn't help, but he kept hoping.
When Barron pointed out that Gus had supposedly recognized Natalia from high school, Frank shook his head. He'd already thought of that. It had been one of the doubts that had worked its way into his brain overnight. But before he could comment, Barron's head tipped to one side.
"Then again, I didn't recognize anybody when I went to my twenty-year high school reunion...people change in twenty years. If there was a vague resemblance, I could see somebody buying it."
"Yeah," Frank exhaled, feeling gut punched as he realized just how easy it would be to fool someone under those circumstances. "If she ever spoke to the real Natalia Rivera, it would be easy to get a few details to use. And Gus was trusting guy who believed the best of people. He'd be easy to fool."
"What about her kid though? Surely this Aitoro got a DNA test?"
A discussion of Rafe and DNA tests that should have been done, but probably hadn't been because Gus had just believed in her led to an unwanted reminder of one of the facts that Frank had found in the Sotero file. "At least twice she's worked with a man...medium height and weight...young...Hispanic...good looking." All of which could easily describe Rafe.
"Yeah," Barron confirmed, "probably her lover."
Frank pulled a bottle of sickly pink liquid from his jacket pocket and took a long slug before muttering, "Yeah, her lover." It had always amazed him how Natalia barely looked older than Rafe. Maybe there was a darker reason for that. Had they lain coiled together in the sheets, laughing at him? The nausea spun tighter in his gut. He looked at Barron, waiting for some kind of argument, but the other man just looked uncomfortable. "What?" he demanded after a beat.
"Look, you said you were in love with this woman...and she left you at the altar-"
"For Olivia Spencer," Frank spat before he could stop himself, reminded once again of that sickening moment when she'd left him standing there in front of everyone, looking like the biggest fool in the world and another even more sickening moment when he'd realized just why, and his every dream had gone up in a puff of smoke.
"Yeah, well...that's really rough," Barron said sympathetically, his tone sad and understanding, reminding Frank that the other man had been through his own traumas on that front. "But maybe you're letting that affect your judgment."
Frank bristled and felt his temper threaten to explode as he responded, not shouting, but close to it as he denied the accusation, then ranted about how Natalia had fought to keep Olivia alive, had been at her virtual beck and call, even though Olivia tried to steal her husband, her house, even her damned weddings rings. He went over it again and again, seeing it more clearly with every pass. It was impossible to think that anyone would do those things out of pure selflessness.
"Who would behave like that with no ulterior motive?" Frank asked a little helplessly when he'd finally gone through it so many times he couldn't come up with any more permutations. He'd once thought it was because Natalia was just that special-a little more decent and kind than mere mortals, but now it seemed like nobody was that good-hearted. Certainly not a woman who could spend months leading him on, making him think she loved him, who could whimper and moan in his bed and leave him thinking she craved his body every bit as much as he craved hers.
"It does seem pretty hard to believe," Barron allowed, and Frank could see from his expression that he was starting to see the point.
"Yeah, and believe me," Frank added bitterly as he considered Natalia's actions. No, not Natalia, he thought bitterly, Emily. "Olivia Spencer isn't the sort of person who normally engenders that kind of loyalty-"
"Not exactly all sweetness and light?" Barron questioned.
"Ball-busting maneater," Frank growled, then went into a few further descriptions of Olivia that made it clear just why no one with a brain in their head ought to care whether she lived or died. Most especially not Natalia Rivera-if Natalia Rivera was real and alive and had really loved Gus Aitoro-which more and more Frank was thinking wasn't the case at all.
"Well, Emily Sotero was always rumored to be good at thinking on her feet. If she lost one mark, I could see her finding a new one in town...and picking up somebody with heart problems is a classic Sotero move. She's very good at the whole nurse 'em along, get 'em dependent, then strip the accounts bare and disappear in a puff of smoke," Barron murmured thoughtfully.
"Yeah," Frank exhaled, alternating between his beer and the pink stuff now. "Meanwhile, she had me on the hook to see if there was any chance we were onto her." And that too, was right on Emily Sotero's pattern. She hated cops and liked humiliating them. And boy, hadn't she managed to do a job on him. She'd looked at him with those big eyes, paid attention to him, made him think she was crazy about him, that they were going to build a life, a family, then in the most humiliating way possible, tossed him and all of their dreams to the curb.
Another swallow of viscous pink gagged in Frank's throat. He washed it down with the last of his beer, then waved at the waitress to order another.
It almost made him feel human though, when Barron offered his sympathies and pointed out that Frank was the first one to get real information on her. It wasn't much yet, but it was a start and there was more out there. Start by checking out where her social security number had been used over the years and follow that like a trail of breadcrumbs. Something was bound to pop up.
Then Barron pointed out that Alan Spaulding was a powerful man, one whom Emily Sotero had tried to play. Couldn't hurt to have a man like that on one's side.
Frank resisted at first. Coopers and Spauldings just didn't mix, but as Barron talked, he started to see the advantages to the idea even as he spilled choice stories about the businessman and his various peccadilloes. Yeah, he needed to talk to Alan, he realized, make sure there hadn't been a DNA test, though as Barron pointed out, even if there had been, con artists knew plenty of ways of faking that kind of thing, so it might not mean much.
"It's all about getting enough to go to the DA," Barron reminded him when Frank paused in recounting more town gossip. "You just gotta do whatever that takes...you can't let her get away and take advantage of somebody else."
"Yeah," Frank muttered as he ordered a fresh beer. "Gotta get enough evidence to take it to the DA...or maybe the ADA," he amended as he remembered that Jeffrey O'Neill was one of the few people in town who might actually give a damn about Olivia. "He's one of Olivia's exes...father of her oldest kid," he explained when the other man looked at him curiously.
"Sounds like a man who might feel protective where the lady's concerned," Barron observed practically. "Might make him more inclined to listen to you and not buy into Sotero's innocent act."
Frank confirmed that and a few more things besides, like how Natalia's "son" had put a bullet through the man. Then he found himself expounding on secrets his father had let slip one night when he'd had too much to drink and had been alternately hurt and pissed off to be tossed over in favor of the other man.
All of which reminded him of other betrayals and other sins and he found himself wondering if maybe he should butt the hell out and just let the chips fall where they may. He didn't owe Olivia Spencer a damn thing, not after everything she'd pulled on him and his family. He didn't realize he was muttering out loud until Barron broke in.
"Wait a minute. You said this woman has a kid, right?" he said sharply.
"Yeah, Emma. She's a good kid," Frank said, his tone shifting as he thought of the little girl and her sweetness. A sad smile curved his mouth as he remembered a time when he'd thought he and Olivia would raise her together. He'd have taught her to be a real Cooper. He abruptly shook off the memories and straightened his shoulders, looking up to find Barron peering at him intently.
"Seems to me," the other man said softly, "that changes everything...even if this woman deserves whatever she gets...you're too good a man to let the kid suffer because her mom's a whore."
Frank flinched a little at the language, even if he'd said as much and worse in the last hour, but Barron had a point. "Yeah," he exhaled after a long moment. The rest of them deserved whatever they got, but Emma didn't. She shouldn't be hurt or lose her inheritance because her mother was a fool who thought Natalia Rivera could love her. "Gotta do it for Emma." He felt his stomach unknot slightly as he saw the admiration in the other man's expression.
"That's right...for Emma," Barron agreed smoothly. "You've got a plan now...you've just got to follow through for her sake...whatever that takes...even if it means warning her mom that she's got a snake in the nest."
"Warn Olivia?" Frank repeated, his stomach churning at the notion.
"That's right. You get your information together and you do what you have to in order to protect Emma."
Frank nodded dully.
"But right now, you need to go home and get some sleep," Barron said flatly as he began gathering up the papers spread across the table and shoving them away in Frank's briefcase.
Frank shook his head. "No, I need to go back through this stuff and-"
"Go home and get some sleep," the other man instructed in a no-nonsense tone. "You're not gonna convince anyone of anything if you're half dead from lack of sleep."
Frank started to refuse again, but something in the other man's eyes stopped him in his tracks.
"Give me a call tomorrow morning," Barron took a sip from his beer, peering at Frank over the rim of his mug, something almost hypnotic in his eyes and the timbre of his voice. "I'm only gonna be in town a few more days...and I wanna hear how things are going. We can talk about anything you want," he added in that same, slow, smooth cadence.
"Yeah, I-I'll do that," Frank exhaled.
"It's going to be okay," Barron murmured, his voice low and soothing. "We'll make sure of it."
"We will," Frank agreed as he realized that Barron was right. He was out on his feet, and three beers hadn't helped any. He wondered if he should call Mallet, but then shook the idea off. He was a good driver and he wasn't anywhere near drunk.
A few more grateful platitudes and he was headed out while Barron stayed behind to finish his beer.
Dark eyes tracked the detective as he staggered out of the bar while a steady hand pushed a near untouched beer away before floating up to massage at the headache pounding in his temple. He retrieved a small bottle of Advil from a coat pocket and threw back a handful, hoping they'd kick in quickly. Another few minutes of Frank Cooper's company and he wouldn't have been responsible for his actions. A slow head shake, then a smirk as he noted that Blazing Saddles was playing on the TV over the bar. He couldn't hear the sound from his table, but he recognized the scene and easily read Gene Wilder's lips as the dialogue went by.
"...you've got to remember that these are just simple farmers. These are people of the land. The common clay of the new West. You know... morons."
How appropriate.
* * * * * *
TBC
Author: Pink Rabbit Productions
Fandom: Guiding Light
Pairing: Olivia/Natalia
Part: 12
Date: 10 July, 2009
Rating: Personally, I'd call it an R, but some might consider it NC-17 at some point.
Disclaimer: The characters and situations belong to other folks far wealthier, more important (or at least with better lawyers), and hopefully more charitable and kinder than I. They include, but are not necessarily limited to CBS, Proctor and Gamble, and Telenext. The actual arrangement of words, however, remains my own as do any original characters. Meanwhile, there is likely to be all female romantic and sexual activity ahead, so if this is likely to get you, me, or anybody else arrested should you take a gander, please move along. Also, if you find that sort of thing offensive, you really probably shouldn't hang around anyplace I'm posting. Just sayin'....
Archiving: The Pink Rabbit Consortium
Spoilers: Some early scenes definitely, plus anything through the spa trip is fair game.
Timeline: Unlike some folks, I don't have an exact scene where this one takes off. However, it's definitely set after the spa trip, but before Rafe's release from the halfway house. Oh, and it's after Natalia admits she's in love with Olivia to Father Ray.
Earlier Parts: | Part 1 (Prologue) | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 |
Life and Breath
by Pink Rabbit Productions
Part 12
Frank Cooper felt like his head was going to explode so fierce was the exhaustion headache burning behind his eyes. He'd barely slept in the last thirty-six hours, running on coffee and adrenaline until it was getting harder and harder to think straight. For a little while, he'd had it all worked out in his head, then the doubts had started to creep in as he couldn't quite make the puzzle pieces fit, and he'd started to think maybe he was seeing shapes in the clouds to even remotely think that Natalia could be some kind of con artist.
Which was why he was so grateful for a voice of sanity to reassure him he hadn't lost his mind and to help make sense out of chaos of his own thoughts.
"Whoa," Jim Barron exhaled as he stared at Frank in shock.
Frank had barely sat down at the same table they'd shared on their first meeting when he'd started talking, opening up to the other detective between long swigs of beer in a way he couldn't to Mallet or the other cops in his squadroom. He'd told the other man everything, every sad, embarrassing, pathetic detail from the way Natalia had blown into town and stolen Gus away from Harley, to Gus' death and Olivia's resulting survival, to his own aborted wedding and discovery of just why Natalia had supposedly left him at the altar.
Barron was easy to talk to. He mostly just listened, but when he did say something, it was always supportive and understanding. It made it easier just knowing he'd been through it, knew what it was like to be embarrassed and taken advantage of by a woman he thought loved him.
"Whoa," Barron said again after a beat. He shook his head, visibly struggling to take it all in. "You really think this Natalia Rivera is Emily Sotero?"
At which point, Frank was off and running again, repeating the story of how Natalia had gone after Gus, whose father was rich and powerful, only Gus had died and Alan wound up on the skids, and there wasn't much money to be made on that front.
"...and there was Olivia...and her failing heart..." Frank snarled, his lip curling bitterly, "...and her money...and so needy." He took another swallow of beer. It didn't help, but he kept hoping.
When Barron pointed out that Gus had supposedly recognized Natalia from high school, Frank shook his head. He'd already thought of that. It had been one of the doubts that had worked its way into his brain overnight. But before he could comment, Barron's head tipped to one side.
"Then again, I didn't recognize anybody when I went to my twenty-year high school reunion...people change in twenty years. If there was a vague resemblance, I could see somebody buying it."
"Yeah," Frank exhaled, feeling gut punched as he realized just how easy it would be to fool someone under those circumstances. "If she ever spoke to the real Natalia Rivera, it would be easy to get a few details to use. And Gus was trusting guy who believed the best of people. He'd be easy to fool."
"What about her kid though? Surely this Aitoro got a DNA test?"
A discussion of Rafe and DNA tests that should have been done, but probably hadn't been because Gus had just believed in her led to an unwanted reminder of one of the facts that Frank had found in the Sotero file. "At least twice she's worked with a man...medium height and weight...young...Hispanic...good looking." All of which could easily describe Rafe.
"Yeah," Barron confirmed, "probably her lover."
Frank pulled a bottle of sickly pink liquid from his jacket pocket and took a long slug before muttering, "Yeah, her lover." It had always amazed him how Natalia barely looked older than Rafe. Maybe there was a darker reason for that. Had they lain coiled together in the sheets, laughing at him? The nausea spun tighter in his gut. He looked at Barron, waiting for some kind of argument, but the other man just looked uncomfortable. "What?" he demanded after a beat.
"Look, you said you were in love with this woman...and she left you at the altar-"
"For Olivia Spencer," Frank spat before he could stop himself, reminded once again of that sickening moment when she'd left him standing there in front of everyone, looking like the biggest fool in the world and another even more sickening moment when he'd realized just why, and his every dream had gone up in a puff of smoke.
"Yeah, well...that's really rough," Barron said sympathetically, his tone sad and understanding, reminding Frank that the other man had been through his own traumas on that front. "But maybe you're letting that affect your judgment."
Frank bristled and felt his temper threaten to explode as he responded, not shouting, but close to it as he denied the accusation, then ranted about how Natalia had fought to keep Olivia alive, had been at her virtual beck and call, even though Olivia tried to steal her husband, her house, even her damned weddings rings. He went over it again and again, seeing it more clearly with every pass. It was impossible to think that anyone would do those things out of pure selflessness.
"Who would behave like that with no ulterior motive?" Frank asked a little helplessly when he'd finally gone through it so many times he couldn't come up with any more permutations. He'd once thought it was because Natalia was just that special-a little more decent and kind than mere mortals, but now it seemed like nobody was that good-hearted. Certainly not a woman who could spend months leading him on, making him think she loved him, who could whimper and moan in his bed and leave him thinking she craved his body every bit as much as he craved hers.
"It does seem pretty hard to believe," Barron allowed, and Frank could see from his expression that he was starting to see the point.
"Yeah, and believe me," Frank added bitterly as he considered Natalia's actions. No, not Natalia, he thought bitterly, Emily. "Olivia Spencer isn't the sort of person who normally engenders that kind of loyalty-"
"Not exactly all sweetness and light?" Barron questioned.
"Ball-busting maneater," Frank growled, then went into a few further descriptions of Olivia that made it clear just why no one with a brain in their head ought to care whether she lived or died. Most especially not Natalia Rivera-if Natalia Rivera was real and alive and had really loved Gus Aitoro-which more and more Frank was thinking wasn't the case at all.
"Well, Emily Sotero was always rumored to be good at thinking on her feet. If she lost one mark, I could see her finding a new one in town...and picking up somebody with heart problems is a classic Sotero move. She's very good at the whole nurse 'em along, get 'em dependent, then strip the accounts bare and disappear in a puff of smoke," Barron murmured thoughtfully.
"Yeah," Frank exhaled, alternating between his beer and the pink stuff now. "Meanwhile, she had me on the hook to see if there was any chance we were onto her." And that too, was right on Emily Sotero's pattern. She hated cops and liked humiliating them. And boy, hadn't she managed to do a job on him. She'd looked at him with those big eyes, paid attention to him, made him think she was crazy about him, that they were going to build a life, a family, then in the most humiliating way possible, tossed him and all of their dreams to the curb.
Another swallow of viscous pink gagged in Frank's throat. He washed it down with the last of his beer, then waved at the waitress to order another.
It almost made him feel human though, when Barron offered his sympathies and pointed out that Frank was the first one to get real information on her. It wasn't much yet, but it was a start and there was more out there. Start by checking out where her social security number had been used over the years and follow that like a trail of breadcrumbs. Something was bound to pop up.
Then Barron pointed out that Alan Spaulding was a powerful man, one whom Emily Sotero had tried to play. Couldn't hurt to have a man like that on one's side.
Frank resisted at first. Coopers and Spauldings just didn't mix, but as Barron talked, he started to see the advantages to the idea even as he spilled choice stories about the businessman and his various peccadilloes. Yeah, he needed to talk to Alan, he realized, make sure there hadn't been a DNA test, though as Barron pointed out, even if there had been, con artists knew plenty of ways of faking that kind of thing, so it might not mean much.
"It's all about getting enough to go to the DA," Barron reminded him when Frank paused in recounting more town gossip. "You just gotta do whatever that takes...you can't let her get away and take advantage of somebody else."
"Yeah," Frank muttered as he ordered a fresh beer. "Gotta get enough evidence to take it to the DA...or maybe the ADA," he amended as he remembered that Jeffrey O'Neill was one of the few people in town who might actually give a damn about Olivia. "He's one of Olivia's exes...father of her oldest kid," he explained when the other man looked at him curiously.
"Sounds like a man who might feel protective where the lady's concerned," Barron observed practically. "Might make him more inclined to listen to you and not buy into Sotero's innocent act."
Frank confirmed that and a few more things besides, like how Natalia's "son" had put a bullet through the man. Then he found himself expounding on secrets his father had let slip one night when he'd had too much to drink and had been alternately hurt and pissed off to be tossed over in favor of the other man.
All of which reminded him of other betrayals and other sins and he found himself wondering if maybe he should butt the hell out and just let the chips fall where they may. He didn't owe Olivia Spencer a damn thing, not after everything she'd pulled on him and his family. He didn't realize he was muttering out loud until Barron broke in.
"Wait a minute. You said this woman has a kid, right?" he said sharply.
"Yeah, Emma. She's a good kid," Frank said, his tone shifting as he thought of the little girl and her sweetness. A sad smile curved his mouth as he remembered a time when he'd thought he and Olivia would raise her together. He'd have taught her to be a real Cooper. He abruptly shook off the memories and straightened his shoulders, looking up to find Barron peering at him intently.
"Seems to me," the other man said softly, "that changes everything...even if this woman deserves whatever she gets...you're too good a man to let the kid suffer because her mom's a whore."
Frank flinched a little at the language, even if he'd said as much and worse in the last hour, but Barron had a point. "Yeah," he exhaled after a long moment. The rest of them deserved whatever they got, but Emma didn't. She shouldn't be hurt or lose her inheritance because her mother was a fool who thought Natalia Rivera could love her. "Gotta do it for Emma." He felt his stomach unknot slightly as he saw the admiration in the other man's expression.
"That's right...for Emma," Barron agreed smoothly. "You've got a plan now...you've just got to follow through for her sake...whatever that takes...even if it means warning her mom that she's got a snake in the nest."
"Warn Olivia?" Frank repeated, his stomach churning at the notion.
"That's right. You get your information together and you do what you have to in order to protect Emma."
Frank nodded dully.
"But right now, you need to go home and get some sleep," Barron said flatly as he began gathering up the papers spread across the table and shoving them away in Frank's briefcase.
Frank shook his head. "No, I need to go back through this stuff and-"
"Go home and get some sleep," the other man instructed in a no-nonsense tone. "You're not gonna convince anyone of anything if you're half dead from lack of sleep."
Frank started to refuse again, but something in the other man's eyes stopped him in his tracks.
"Give me a call tomorrow morning," Barron took a sip from his beer, peering at Frank over the rim of his mug, something almost hypnotic in his eyes and the timbre of his voice. "I'm only gonna be in town a few more days...and I wanna hear how things are going. We can talk about anything you want," he added in that same, slow, smooth cadence.
"Yeah, I-I'll do that," Frank exhaled.
"It's going to be okay," Barron murmured, his voice low and soothing. "We'll make sure of it."
"We will," Frank agreed as he realized that Barron was right. He was out on his feet, and three beers hadn't helped any. He wondered if he should call Mallet, but then shook the idea off. He was a good driver and he wasn't anywhere near drunk.
A few more grateful platitudes and he was headed out while Barron stayed behind to finish his beer.
Dark eyes tracked the detective as he staggered out of the bar while a steady hand pushed a near untouched beer away before floating up to massage at the headache pounding in his temple. He retrieved a small bottle of Advil from a coat pocket and threw back a handful, hoping they'd kick in quickly. Another few minutes of Frank Cooper's company and he wouldn't have been responsible for his actions. A slow head shake, then a smirk as he noted that Blazing Saddles was playing on the TV over the bar. He couldn't hear the sound from his table, but he recognized the scene and easily read Gene Wilder's lips as the dialogue went by.
"...you've got to remember that these are just simple farmers. These are people of the land. The common clay of the new West. You know... morons."
How appropriate.
* * * * * *
TBC