Pairing: Olivia Spencer/Natalia Rivera.
Rating: I've decided on R for language.
Summary: Natalia finds that she massively miscalculated the effect of her departure, and has to deal with the consequences.
Disclaimer: Definitely not mine; I would be taking waaaaaay better care of them, I assure you.
Spoilers: Not really.
Author's Note: Fic title is from Joseph Arthur's In the Sun, which is a great song for Otalia.
This is definitely not the fic for those who want to see a speedy reconciliation. Or a not-angry!Olivia.
Many thanks to seftiri for the beta!
This part is another short one, but the next update is massive (I may split it into two parts), so.
Parts 1-2. Part 3.
The fifth night in a row Emma comes over for dinner and to play, Olivia finally comes to the door.
Not that she was necessarily planning on doing so (though the traitorous voice in the back of her head had suggested it more than once), but there was an emergency at the Beacon, she was an hour and a half late, she’d barely gotten a text off to Natalia to ask her to keep Emma a little longer, and now she’s exhausted. Now she just wants to go home (to the Beacon) and sleep for days and she’s in no mood to wait until Emma and Natalia realize she’s here. Nor is she in any mood to call Natalia.
“Come on, hurry up,” she snarls under her breath as she knocks repeatedly. She’s just raised her fist again when the door opens.
Natalia, eyes bleary, rears back. “Uh, hi,” she says after a moment, and Olivia drops her first, feeling a blush heat her cheeks. The slight embarrassment only fuels her bad mood.
“Took you long enough,” she snaps, but Natalia is too sleepy to respond in kind; she just gives Olivia a raised eyebrow look.
“Em and I fell asleep reading on the couch,” Nat explains, stepping aside to let Olivia enter. Her voice is hoarse from lack of sleep. Her hair is tousled. Her face has gained some pregnancy weight, and it softens her features.
She looks sexy as hell, and Olivia hates herself for thinking it, for noticing. She moves past Natalia, careful not to touch the other woman, but she still feels Natalia shiver; feels the tingle run down her own spine.
She wouldn’t be so angry with Natalia, she thinks, if she could just get her fucking body and emotions under control and stop caring about things like proximity and angles and relative heights.
“You want me to take her to the car?” Natalia asks. Sure enough, Emma is curled up under their movie night blanket, snoring softly. Despite her ire, Olivia’s heart softens when she looks at her daughter. She can’t help it.
“Liv?” Natalia’s voice is behind her, the nickname falling naturally, and Olivia shuts her eyes. A gentle touch on her elbow, and Olivia flinches, pulled away as if burned (because oh, Natalia's touch makes her feel like she's on fire), awkwardly hops forward.
“Yeah, please. I can get one of the guys at the hotel to take her up there,” Olivia gets out, a heartbeat too late. Then she pauses. “I—I mean, can you? Is it, you know,” she gestures wildly with her hands, “safe for you two?”
Natalia snorts softly. “Yeah, it’s fine,” she murmurs. She walks past Olivia, head tilted down and away, and Olivia feels a pang of...something she’s not ready to admit yet.
Not when she’s still so angry.
All the emotions ball together in her stomach and sit like a leaden weight.
Natalia’s got Emma up, now. Em’s mumbling as she clings to Natalia, and Olivia hastens to get the door for them, then the car door.
They get Emma buckled in and settled, and then Olivia pivots, comes face-to-face with Natalia.
Oh, she’s so not ready for this again. Not when her emotions are in a jumbled ball that’s rising to her ribs, her heart.
“Olivia…” Natalia says softly, reaching out for her arm.
But she can’t. Not again. Now that she’s gotten her anger out she wants to be indifferent, she wants to not care, and she can’t do that when Natalia is looking at her like that, touching her. Natalia makes her emotions just....
So she adroitly ducks out of the way of Natalia’s hand. “Thanks for watching Emma,” she says gruffly, backing around the car. Natalia doesn’t follow.
“My pleasure,” Natalia says softly. Olivia grits her teeth.
“I’m sure Emma will be over tomorrow night again,” Olivia continues as she gets into the car. Natalia finally comes around the car, leans against the post next to Olivia’s door.
“Do you want to stay for dinner tomorrow, too?” Natalia asks tentatively. In the darkness, Olivia can’t read her eyes.
The ball rises to her throat. She almost chokes on it.
“No,” she says harshly, and puts the car in reverse.
Natalia stays in her rear-view mirror until she rounds the bend. What a metaphor, Olivia thinks, and wishes that leaving Natalia behind for good could be so easy.