Fandom - Guiding Light
Pairing - Olivia/Natalia (eventually...)
Warnings and/or Spoilers - Not a single spoiler. This is an AU story, where the names are the same and some of the facts are the same, but we will be veering off into new lands! Ahoy, I see a different kind of fanfic! [lol]
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 - Currently PG, will be a hard-R in later chapters
Notes - Update will be sporadic, at best. You'll just have to be patient with me. [lol]
She had lost control.
When Phillip came back around, she lost it. She found the rope pulled tight within her body, taut and ready to snap… and his return just intensified the fraying.
She unraveled. She felt it all spin out of focus and her vision was left in the red of anger.
Before anyone could stop her, Olivia Spencer was pulling her gun up and aiming at his head.
He used that moment and he didn’t have to twist the facts, not this time. They went to court and the only picture painted was of a loose cannon.
Other cops couldn’t truly defend her because they didn’t truly know her.
And in the end, wrong became right and Emma left with Phillip.
And whatever meager amount of resistance Olivia had inside of herself, the tiny voice within that cautioned her against slipping into a dark place… it just stopped talking.
/ / /
“We’ve got something brewing. I just know it.” Darren Lewis said, leaning against Olivia’s desk and looking toward a distant office.
She glanced up briefly, watching what looked like a heated discussion going on.
One of the parties involved was Chief Dawson. The other two, men she didn’t recognize, were motioning with their hands.
“So?” Olivia replied, going back to a file on her desk.
“You have no curiosity, Spencer.” Darren supplied, still eyeing the chief’s office.
“I just do my job. I don’t ask questions.” She answered blandly.
Darren shifted his gaze to Olivia’s bent head and studied her quietly. When she blew in here three years ago, the woman shook up everything.
She challenged everyone, butting in and showing up many a male officer. She engaged in the pissing matches, not with a bigger gun or a faster squad car, but with an unmatched bravado.
She bragged a lot and she had a reason to. Darren was aware of that fact early on.
They worked together often in her first year at the station.
Where he would have prodded and inquired with a heavy-hand, Olivia Spencer came on soft.
She lied better than anyone, gathering people in her hands and… when it was time… tossing them into the tide of the legal system.
She didn’t suffer fools and she didn’t play if she wasn’t going to win.
But that had changed recently. She wouldn’t really talk about any of it, but word gets around quick.
Something about her daughter, that’s what Darren heard. Something about pointing a gun at a man and fucking up big-time, that is the tale being told around the station.
He had tried taking her out for a drink, to lend an ear to a fellow officer and tentative friend.
She just got plastered, which seems to be her favorite pastime lately…
Olivia Spencer has gone from uber-cop, the kind you don’t mess with and the kind of cop, who is almost too tightly wound, to the kind of cop who just doesn’t give a damn.
She just doesn’t seem to give a damn about anything.
/ / /
Olivia sits in her chair, in a too quiet apartment, staring into space and taking small sips of vodka.
It’s too fucking quiet in here. I can’t stand this silence.
But television doesn’t work. No radio and no phone calls. She allows her gaze to drift to the doorway, the one that leads to an empty bedroom.
It still holds Emma’s bed and some of her clothes and some of her toys.
The last time Olivia saw the girl was at a little café, with Phillip sitting at the bar and watching closely.
Bastard. The damn bastard.
But even that sentiment isn’t fully convincing, not anymore. Olivia is used to being brutally honest with herself, of seeing the scars on her body, the ones that just won’t heal.
And Phillip is just one of many. He is not the worst of those scars, though. And maybe, he wasn’t wrong to take Emma, not this time.
Olivia Spencer has been trying to fix the hole deep inside for so long, patching and mending over the years. And, yet, nothing is enough.
The hollowness has been there forever or so it seems, growing wider and more broad, taking over until it shines out – a beacon of brokenness.
It used to be victorious justice that she needed, for that girl who still dictated her life.
That girl… that girl who cannot be repaired…
That girl, free and wild, was running on some island… That girl, thinking that nothing bad could ever happen and that people could be trusted… That girl had to find out about lies.
I had to find out about lies and deceit and pain.
Her cell phone rings, tearing her away from the shady and familiar path in her head.
“Spencer.” Her voice is raw from alcohol and sounds rough to her own ears.
“You’ve read the file?” Chief Dawson asks.
“Yep. Seems like they might have officers on the take.”
“Uh huh. What else?”
“Well, if they have crooked cops, then the dealer can get away with anything.”
“’Bout what I was thinking. You up for it?”
There is silence on the other line and Olivia sighs.
“I know what you are thinking. Forget it, I am fine.” Olivia states into the receiver.
“Just wanted you to know that that vacation is still on offer. I can get someone else to do it.”
“And have them mess it up? No. I can do this. I need to get the hell out of here and work.”
And so it is settled, quickly and efficiently.
Olivia packs a bag and dials the number of a Frank Cooper, detective at the Springfield PD.
“Olivia Spencer. I hear you guys need someone to solve your case for you.”
And his voice is slightly annoyed, which starts this undercover stint just the right way for Olivia.
Maybe this will bring me back to myself. Something has to…
/ / /
Springfield is west of Olivia’s apartment, approximately five hours on the interstate.
As she drives, her little conversation with Frank Cooper rattles around in her head.
“Listen, I know you city cops like to think that a small town like ours can’t handle something like this-“
“A small town with, what was it, 50, 000 people living there?”
“Just don’t think you are taking over this investigation. Okay?”
“You came to us. Not the other way around. But let’s move on, shall we? I don’t have time to stroke your ego and make you feel better about yourself. I am here to do a job.”
Olivia smiles to herself, reveling in the knowledge that she can still put anyone in their place.
It was that attitude that got her through so many tough situations, in the field and at the station.
She developed a hard shell over herself, covering up any possible weaknesses and presented an image of an impenetrable woman.
Of course, she let a few people past those walls. Some of them were worth it, at least for a while…
But at the end of the day, Olivia couldn’t let anyone that far into her thoughts or heart.
Phillip was the last one who really tried and it failed spectacularly.
Not that he is some shining example of a decent guy.
They met, they dated, they got close and it seemed real. It seemed like she might have found someone who figured her out and didn’t run away screaming.
But Phillip was always whipped by his family and let those familial relations guide him around.
It put a strain on them as a couple, for sure. But it became worse when Olivia found out she was pregnant.
After that, everything went to hell.
And that is the understatement of the century.
At exactly one in the morning, her headlights hit the green sign signaling her arrival into the township of Springfield. She coasts along on the quiet streets and looks for the police station, finding it lit up like a nightlight in a dark room.
And as she steps out of her car, Olivia Spencer prepares to shed her current life and become someone else.
/ / /