Fandom - Guiding Light
Pairing - Olivia/Natalia (eventually...)
Warnings and/or Spoilers - No spoilers. This is an AU (Alternative Universe) story, so some things are the same, but a lot of it is not the same at all.
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, will be hard-R in later chapters
Notes - It is all taking shape now. Yes yes. :D
Even as a child, Natalia kept to herself and didn’t cross that line into someone’s personal space. Unless asked, of course… which this is kind of asking, isn’t it? She asked me why I could not sleep. We are having a conversation.
It still does not sit too well in Natalia’s mind, the idea of sharing information of her life outside of The Beacon with a stranger. But those doubts seem to be overwhelmed with Natalia’s desire to off-load to someone. She has friends in Springfield, but that moment when one tells another everything and allows another person to help shoulder the burden of day-to-day living…
I don’t have that, not at all. It is just Rafe and I. And he is slipping away.
Her mind makes a quick decision and Natalia ignores the tightening of her gut, the scary place that she has held onto for so long… the place that has protected her from the outside world and kept her safe, sure… but it has kept me isolated, too.
“It’s my son. He is at that age where everything I do or say is an attack on him. So… he stayed out all night and I don’t know where he is. I feel like I am losing him.”
There. I said it all. Right…
And Natalia cannot help herself; she is watching Ms. Martin’s every move. She is waiting for the moment that the other woman decides this maid likes to over-share and runs from the elevator.
But those eyes just turn to her and Natalia feels that grip inside loosen, just a bit.
Natalia feels suddenly caught in Ms. Martin’s gaze, catching the faintest glimmer of…
She looks so sad.
Natalia finds her arm reaching out without her consent and her hand finds the soft material of Ms. Martin’s coat.
“Are you okay, Ms. Martin?” Natalia questions, her brain wondering what could cause such sorrow and what could be done to fix it.
As if I could fix it… what am I doing?
The look passes, though, and Ms. Martin smiles tightly.
“Thought I told you to call me Olivia.”
Natalia removes her hand and draws back into herself again. Ms. Martin… Olivia… looks back to the doors. They are both silent for what seems like forever before the doors open and reveal the lobby.
Natalia watches mutely as Ms. Martin… Olivia… steps out of the elevator, barely sparing a glance back as she walks away.
Well, that went just great.
Natalia takes a deep breath and tries to get settled for the day ahead.
And she tries to shove aside a vision of green eyes – looking shattered for a second in time – and of her own spiraling life, where Rafe disappears and she is left with nothing.
/ / /
What the fuck is wrong with me? ‘Ms. Martin’ just failed miserably at mingling with others.
But what bothers Olivia Spencer more is the fact that, briefly, she felt as though her cover was gone and it was just her own life on display. For just a moment, Olivia was in pain and someone gave a damn.
All because of some maid and her son.
It doesn’t take a genius to figure out what the correlation is, Olivia decides. Here is this woman… Natalia… feeling like she is losing her son to the passage of time and…
Here I am, in some town while my daughter is far away… with her bastard father and probably forgetting my face.
Olivia chanced a call, the night before, to Emma. Phillip answered and didn’t fight her too much on talking to their daughter.
The girl’s voice was happy and delightful, full of stories and questions. And Olivia lied the best she could, better than on any stupid case.
She lied to her little girl, telling her child that they would see each other soon and that everything was just fine.
Just hearing her voice nearly broke me down.
“When will you be back?” Phillip asked and Olivia was caught off guard.
“Why do you care?” She snapped.
She can hear him sigh heavily over the phone line, as clear as if he were in the same room with her.
“Just call when you are back. Okay?”
Olivia hung up on him.
I can’t think about this now. I have a case to solve. I can’t get involved with these people. They are just scenery, just suspects…
But Olivia catches the fast moving figure of the maid… of Natalia… and wishes she could call the woman back. They could get some coffee or a drink, talk long into the night about all their worries and maybe, just maybe, find some solidarity in one another.
I must be out of my fucking mind.
Olivia turns back around, shutting out anything and everything else, before knocking on Cassie Layne’s door.
/ / /
Rafe Rivera has always known that, if it came down to him and some other kid his age, that the other kid would catch all the breaks.
He has blamed Nicky, the dad he never knew. And he has even blamed his mother, sometimes, for not trying for more in life.
How can she tell me to do better when she is content to stay in these shitty jobs all her life?
But Rafe realized quickly that if he didn’t change his life then no one would. School was never his thing, but he studied the best he could and tried to make good grades.
He got a job at Towers doing dishes for the restaurant and cleaning tables.
His mother was so proud of him. But Rafe wanted more.
I want money to buy clothes, buy a car and to help out more. I want to be like every other guy my age and not worry so much.
A couple of friends took him out one night to have some fun and maybe get a little drunk. That’s when he saw some pills trade hands and decided to take one.
And just one was all I needed to know I hated that shit.
He didn’t want to take drugs to numb his life. He wanted to have a better life.
So, he asked around and got some pot for cheap. It was swag, the bottom of the barrel, but kids don’t care as long as they can get high.
He sold some at the club and came home with a cool five-hundred bucks.
That was all he wanted to do – sell some weed and make some extra cash. He wasn’t interested in being an actual ‘drug-dealer’.
Hell, pot is medicinal, right? It’s not crack.
He would still have pangs of uncertainty, though. The times that his mother would smile at him and tug him to church. Or the pats on the back he received from people for being such a ‘good guy’.
Rafe isn’t a bad guy. He is just dissatisfied with his lot in life. He just wants a way out of being the ‘fatherless’ child, the bastard with no one but his mother to give a damn.
But, lately, there were new guys hanging around. And they weren’t dealing in tiny bags of weed.
They were dealing in rocks and blow, hard stuff that can kill a person.
One of these guys, nice suit and polished shoes, tried to pressure him to join up.
Or get the hell out. Nice options.
So, Rafe has been laying low. Just a little deal here and there with guys he knows well.
But his funds are running dry now and that urge for just a little more in his pocket is kicking up.
He shuts the door to his bedroom and walks downstairs, glad that his mother isn’t here to chastise him for staying out all night.
But he does leave her a note, promising to be back later for dinner.
Ma just doesn’t get it. If I can keep making this kind of cash, I can help the both of us.
/ / /