?

Log in

No account? Create an account
 
 
31 July 2009 @ 09:23 pm
Fic: Hide Beside Me (Chapter 27), GL, Olivia/Natalia  
Title: Hide Beside Me (Chapter 27)
Author: DiNovia
Fandom: Guiding Light
Pairing: Olivia/Natalia
Rating:  Chapter=NC-17/Overall=NC-17
Archival:  P&P, Kimly, and AUSXIP of course.  Everyone else, please ask.
Spoilers:  None
Summary:  Phillip Spaulding has returned to Springfield with a vengeance.  Olivia Spencer, afraid that Phillip will take their daughter Emma from her again, flees Springfield with the help of her assistant, Natalia Rivera.  Can they stay one step ahead of Phillip?  Will they ever be safe again?
Content Disclaimer:  This is an AU story--based on a drabble I posted in February--that splits off from the "I can trust you with my life!" scene on 2/16/09.  All canon after that does not exist in this story.  Also, the Phillip Spaulding that returns in this story is still bat-shit crazy and evil. Graphic depictions of love between two consenting adult women are contained within, obviously, coincidentally in this chapter.  ;)  
Source Disclaimer:  I do not own Guiding Light or the characters therein depicted.  I do not seek to profit from this story. 
A/N:  I tried to remain as close to character as humanly possible but as I have only seen YouTube clips of Otalia and no full episodes, I cannot guarantee the results.
Style Note:  As some of you have noticed, I am switching POVs for every chapter.  Natalia, Olivia and Emma will tell their stories in their own words, first-person present tense.  Any other exposition needed will happen in third-person past-tense.  This will cover the urgency I need and will also allow for omniscience for exposition with multiple characters.  I am very interested in knowing whether this style works how I have intended it, so let me know.
Thank You:  To mightbefound and bldy_destini and fewthistle for beta-ing this story.  Thank you also to Tiff for helping me to figure out the major plot problems I'd been having and for being on call when I forget them and need to review.  ;)  Thank you to djshiva for your comments and general enthusiasm for this story. 



DAYS INN -- OKLAHOMA CITY
OLIVIA SPENCER


The nightmare images switch off as soon as my eyes snap open and they fade immediately, thankfully.  I don't know what the dream was about now, but my heart pounds as if I've run a lap or two around, say, the Great Lakes, and I'm sweating even though the damned hotel AC seems to be set to Arctic Circle.  I know there are only two temperature settings on these cheap units, no matter what options they show.  It's always either Fifth Level of Hell or Arctic Circle.  Which is why I shelled out the big bucks for the state-of-the-art units I have at The Beacon.  None of my guests are going to come down with bronchial pneumonia while staying at my hotel, that's for sure.

The only thing these cheap-ass units are good for, I think, burrowing deeper under the covers to leech heat from the warm body next to me, is a slight increase in unplanned pregnancies amongst hotel guests. 

I smile even as my heavy eyelids drift shut again.  The places my mind goes.  Heh.

I snake my arm around a soft belly and pull the warm body closer to me, reveling in its heat.  It's not until I'm rubbing my cheek between a pair of delicate shoulder blades that I suddenly realize that the warm body is decidedly real and decidedly...naked.

My eyes snap open again and the harsh light slicing out of the bathroom through the crack in the door shows me that the body is also decidedly yours.

WHAT THE FUCK??

The shock that rips through my body practically levitates me off the bed--your bed--before memories start flooding back into my frozen brain.  A bathroom littered with strands of mahogany silk.  "You!  Stop!"  Panic.  Tears.  "Our daughter."  Can't breathe.  Big eyes.  Words from a perfect mouth.  You love me.  You love me.  You love me.

And more memories.  A kiss, like electrocution.  Another kiss, like drowning.  My blue silk shirt torn open.  Hungry, burning russet eyes.  Gold rings, heavy in my palm.

I look over my shoulder to the bedside table and there they are, the rings you gave me before you...you....

Before you made love to me.  Before you completely destroyed me with that sweet, hot mouth....

I stifle a sound of need as my blood ignites in my veins, seething like warm honey just beneath the surface of my overheated skin.  My stomach muscles clench with sudden desire and every inch of me pressed against you aches.

I want you so much it hurts.  And I know it's a bad idea but, for the life of me, I can't remember why.  I look over your shoulder at the digital clock on your side of the bed and 5:11am blinks back at me in glaring red.  I clench my eyes shut against the jarring color. 

Soon, we'll have to get up, get Emma and ourselves--  Emma!

My eyes snap open again and I'm beginning to hate the way adrenaline lurches through my body, revving my heartbeat from zero to sixty in the time it takes a thought to cross my mind.  I gently disentangle myself from you and scootch backward out of the bed, teeth chattering as I look for my clothes on the floor.  Several minutes of rooting around in the dim light nets me a pair of jeans and my torn shirt and I frown.  I can't go in to check on my eight-year-old looking like I was attacked by wolves. 

Even if I wouldn't change one second of one minute of last night.  Not for anything in the world.

I feel my cheeks burn with a combination of lust and embarrassment as I discard the clothing and look for something else to wear. 

Out of the corner of my eye, I see a robe I recognize thrown over the back of one of the chairs.  It's a robe from The Beacon, one of the new ones that I brought home for us to try right after Christmas.  A chenille microfiber outer layer in a buttery tan color called Sea Shell and a high-thread-count cotton terry lining, soft and absorbent.  Mine's at home in the bathroom, probably bunched up in a ball on the floor in the corner.  Yours looks like it's never been worn.  But I know it has.  It smells like you--citrus and spice.  I slip into it and tie it off, sighing in relief before tiptoeing quietly to the connecting doors.  I push the one on our side almost closed and wait for my eyes to adjust to the dimmer light.  When they do, I'm relieved to see Emma just as I left her: curled on her side and sound asleep.  She doesn't even look like she's moved.

I sit next to her on the bed and smile, reaching out to stroke her hair for a moment.  She makes a small sound, hardly even a whimper, but my smile slides away in the darkness anyway.  How much is my Jellybean like me after all?  Is she having nightmares too?  Does she keep them from me so she doesn't worry me or is she spared remembering them at all when she wakes?  Are they of what her father did to her or of what I'm doing to her now?  Or both?

My hand stills on her head and I close my eyes.  For the first time since this all began, I seriously consider calling Frank and turning myself in....  Is this--this chaos, this craziness--worth it?  Am I saving her from a horrible fate or am I playing a high-stakes game of tug-of-war with my youngest child, ignoring what's best for her?  What is best for her?

Is it me--her loud, brash mother with impulse control issues and too few maternal skills who's living on borrowed time?  Or is it Phillip--her wealthy, deeply damaged father, who seems to have returned from the dead to finish what he started?  And where do you fit in all of this?  Her other mother, who bakes and packs her lunches and does our laundry but who also has a son in prison and a relationship with God and faith that--on good days--makes me very uncomfortable?

And what about now that we're...lovers?  Am I being selfish, wanting you the way I do?  Will us together--as a family, a real family--make Emma an outcast at school?  Will she be bullied or--oh God--attacked on the playground by the same children who have her over to see new kittens or play new video games?

And what is all of this doing to you?  You should be back in Springfield to be near your son.  You should be far away from me and the danger I've put you into.  What if we get caught?  Arrested?  What will you do then?

My head spins with these questions and I drop my chin to my chest, trying not to give in to my dizziness, to the migraine quietly digging in for a long siege over my left eye.  I sigh and, just as the sound leaves my mouth, I feel your arms wrap around me from behind, your voice whispering in my ear, "She's fine, Olivia.  Everything's fine.  Come back to bed."

I look up at you as you release me.  You catch one of my hands in yours as you pull away, tugging me up and off the bed, your eyes smiling.  I can see them, even in this darkness.  Shining like lights on the water.

I have no choice but to follow.

You turn to me when we're back in your room and I open my mouth to speak...only to have you stop me with impossibly soft fingertips against my lips. 

"Mm-mmh," you say, shaking your head.  You cup my face in your hands and you look at me--really look.  I immediately want to look at something else, anything else, because your eyes are filling with light and love and tenderness and Oh God, you're everything I've ever wanted and I'm so goddamned afraid that as soon as the sun rises you'll come to your senses or whatever and this--this will all be over and my life with it.

I feel the tears first as a searing pain in my throat.  Then as a pressure behind my eyes, stinging.  I blink to keep them away.  I try to pull away from your hands--your strong, amazing hands--but you hold me still and continue to look in my eyes, a ghost of a smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. 

The first sob wells up inside me like a bubble and I choke on it trying to keep it inside.

"It's okay, Olivia," you breathe, brushing your lips and your thumbs across my cheeks.  "Let it go.  I'm here." 

And...you are.  You.  Are.  Here.

For the first time, maybe, I truly understand what that means.  Not just that you're here, right now, in this physical space with me.  Not that you're here to support me or to take care of me or Emma.  Not that you're here because it's where you accidentally ended up after saying for better or for worse with a hopeful smile, like most people facing uncertainty....

It's that you've chosen this--this craziness, knowing it was probably going to go badly, that it was going to be messy and hard and scary and all those things it's turned out to be.  You wanted to be here.  

Then you stayed.  When it got messier and harder and scarier, you stayed.

I've been married five times and what I know about love--real love--would probably fit in one of those tiny tea cups from Emma's tea set.  Except now, looking into your sunny nut-brown eyes, I think I might be getting a clue, finally.

"Oh God...."  I press my hand to my mouth to stop the sobs from coming but it's futile.  I hiccup twice before I feel the first of the tears spill down my cheeks. 

"It's okay," you repeat, pulling off the tee-shirt you threw on when you came to find me.  You toss it on the end of the bed and slip out of your underwear, dropping them next to the tee-shirt.  Then you reach for the tie on the robe I'm wearing--your robe--and quickly help me out of it.

You pull me into bed with you, tucking my head under your chin, wrapping your body around me before pulling the sheets and blankets up around us both.  I shudder against you, trying not to shatter into a million pieces, trying not to make even more of a fool of myself than I already have.

"Te quiero, Querida," you whisper against my forehead, your fingers stroking my hair so softly.  "Puedes llorar conmigo, mi amor...."

And so I do.  I cry. 

I cry as if my heart is breaking, because it is, because it has before and probably will again. 

I cry because Emma may be having nightmares and I don't know what they're about or how to stop them.

I cry because none of this is fair, and even though it isn't, it brought me here, to your arms, and I feel guilty for being thankful for that. 

I cry because Emma's father wants to take her and because your father beat you and because my father died too early. 

I cry because I wanted to abort Ava, but didn't, and then I tried to kill her before I realized who she was. 

I cry because I was raped. 

I cry because I didn't get to watch Ava grow up. 

I cry because my grandson is dead and I won't get to see him grow up. 

I cry because I almost died and if I had I wouldn't have ever known you could be anything more than competition.

I cry because I love you so much more than I love myself or ever will.

I cry because I don't know what else to do.

I cry so long and so hard that when I finally stop, the first gray light of dawn peeks under the curtains as they flutter in the artificial breeze made by the AC, and I feel...remade.  Washed clean from the inside.  Even though I know I probably look like a wreck on the outside.

You hand me what seems like half a box of Kleenex and I chuckle ruefully, sitting up a little to take them.  "That bad, huh?" I ask, my voice half-rasp, half-croak.  I blot ineffectually at my sticky, swollen eyes and try to blow my nose discreetly.  I honk instead, like one of those geese that stopped by our pond this past Christmas, and grimace self-consciously.

"I've never seen you look more beautiful," you say sincerely, brushing my hair out of my eyes.  I don't respond because I can't.  My heart seems to be permanently lodged in my throat when I'm around you now.  Makes it very difficult to talk.

I look at the alarm clock and am shocked to see that it's almost 6:30am.  You see where my mind has gone and you rush to reassure me.  "I called the front desk and canceled our wake up calls when you got up," you explain.  A little sheepishly, you add, "I thought we could get a later start today.  You know, maybe sleep in?" 

I glance at you and see that your cheeks have turned a delicate shade of rose.

"Is that what they're calling it these days?" I tease, leaning in for a gentle kiss.  I'm careful to keep it light--just a tiny bit of pressure against your soft lips--because I want to give you the chance to pull away if that's what you need.  You make a frustrated sound, though, and pull me to you soundly, giving me what you obviously think is a more proper kiss.  I'm a little dazed when you finally release me.

"No.  I think they--whoever they are--still call that 'morning sex,'" you chuckle.  "I was serious about the sleeping in--"  I stop your mouth with another kiss.  I can't help myself.  You said "morning sex."  You said "morning sex" and you laughed and I felt it when you did, a rumble through my chest, and I'm on fire again.  On fire?  I'm a fucking bonfire, no--a raging forest fire.  Suddenly, this is serious.  Our kiss has gone from teasing to unbridled in nothing flat and I feel you open to me, to my tongue and my body as I roll with you, pinning you on your back in this impossibly huge bed.

I wrench away from your intoxicating mouth and begin kissing my way down your neck.  I feel your nipples harden against my skin and then mine do, too.  I slide a thigh between your legs and you throw your head back and moan.  I pull my mouth away from your body and look at you.  You've clenched your eyes shut and you're biting your bottom lip to keep from crying out.  I feel your hips move wantonly underneath me and I'm entranced.  You are so beautiful, so fucking sexy and stunningly gorgeous right now that I find myself lowering my mouth to the meaty part of your shoulder.  I need you so much, want you so much, my mouth acts on its own and I sink my teeth into you deeply, but not hard enough to break the skin.  A cry is torn from your throat. 

"Oh, please...." you beg and your velvety voice is in tatters.  Abruptly, I remember that last night was all about me.  Your mouth on me, your tongue inside me, your kisses making me come undone.... 

I feel myself grow wet and my clit quivers with the desire to feel your hot, sweet, amazing mouth again, to feel you inside me again, making me scream.  I push the sensations away as best as I can because now?  Now is all about you.  Now, I get to discover what makes you scream, what makes you come apart in my arms.  The greedy lust I feel at this moment takes my breath away.  All I want right now....

I smile around your nipple as I take it in my mouth, stroking it with my tongue.

All I want right now is to fuck you until you forget your own name, I think.  I find your other nipple with my fingertips and roll it between my fingers, tugging on it while I suck the other one.  You gasp and buck your hips beneath me.  I feel my hips answer their movement, rocking into you.  God, I want you.  I want you open, so open beneath me.  I want to take you deep and hard, and a stray thought zips through my brain--Is this what men feel with us? 

I let the thought disintegrate as you wind your fingers in my hair, gripping me tightly.  Honestly, I don't care what men feel.  I only care what we feel at this moment and right now, I need to be inside you. 

Right.  Now.

I rise over you, pulling my mouth from your nipple, kissing my way up to your ear as I settle myself between your thighs.  You wrap your legs around my hips and I groan, throwing my head back and hissing with knife-edged pleasure.  I tremble against you, already so close to orgasm myself that I'm afraid I won't last until you've come. 

"I want to be inside you, Natalia," I breathe into your ear, my voice tight with the strain of my self-control.  I snake a hand between us and down until I feel your wetness, the slick heat between your thighs.  I slide my fingertips lightly against it and instantly want more.  It takes all of my strength not to just plunge inside you.

"God, yes...." you cry, your eyes black with desire.  "Olivia, yes...." 

I kiss you roughly, thrusting my tongue into your mouth, battling with yours briefly before pulling away abruptly, my breath coming in harsh gasps.

"I want to fuck you," I growl and I feel you become wetter, feel your hips rise to meet mine.  "Let me fuck you.  God, Natalia.  Please."

My fingers still against you even as your hips rock uncontrollably beneath me, seeking deeper contact, wanting the relief of them.  I refuse to give you that relief without permission to do so.  I need it.  I need to hear you say it.

You look up at me, your eyes round as you watch me fight with myself, watch me hold myself still, shuddering with the effort.  My eyes close as I feel my strength begin to slip.  Just when I don't think I can resist one more second, you realize what I need and you give it to me.

"Take me, Querida," you breathe, reaching up to kiss my jawline.  You put your mouth against my ear and whisper, "Please.  I need you deep inside me."

You slam back onto the bed as I sink into you, plunging three fingers deep inside you.

"Oh, my God!" you cry and I echo you in my head. 

Oh, my God! 

That's all the thinking I'm capable of as I drive into you over and over, my hips rocking behind every thrust, your hips grinding into mine.

You whimper beneath me, your breath catching high in the back of your throat, and the sound drives me mad.  I shift forward a little, to give myself more leverage, and experiment with twisting my fingers as they sink into you, moaning when I hear you cry out my name, your voice barely a shadow of itself.

"Fuck, Natalia," I groan.  My heart pounds and my blood roars through my body like a 12,000 volt power surge.  I feel your muscles begin to clench around my fingers and my clit leaps in answer to the sensation.  "Oh, God!" I cry, rocking harder into you.

"Please," you beg, your head thrashing from side to side on the pillow, pain and pleasure plain in your features.  "Please!  Oh, please, Olivia...."

I curl my fingertips forward the slightest bit and your eyes snap open, staring at me with unadulterated shock.  I feel your muscles tighten even further and then the tremors begin. 

"Oh.  My.  GOD!" you say, your voice deep and desperate.  "Yes!  Oh, yes yes yes yes...."

I throw my head back and cry out as my own orgasm crashes through me.  I ride its power and thrust deeply into you.  Your hands clutch at my shoulders, your nails digging into my skin.  I don't feel any pain.  All I feel is you.  You, locking your legs around my hips.  You, open and wet and coming beneath me.  You, arching into my thrusts.  You, calling for God and me in the same breath.

When it's all over and I've taken you as many times as your body will allow, I collapse half on top of you and roll listlessly to your side.  My body throbs in time with my pounding heart and we're both sweaty and breathless and very, very freshly fucked.

"That was...." you begin.  "You--you were...."  You press a hand to your heart and look blankly at the ceiling.

"Yeah," I agree.  "You, too."  I wave a hand limply in your direction and let it flop back onto the bed.

For several long minutes, there's only the sound of us trying to get our breathing back under control.  When I finally stop seeing flashing colors and exploding lights, I turn my head and look at you. 

You have an arm thrown over your eyes and you've knotted the fingers of your other hand with mine.  You're smiling the sweetest, loveliest smile I think I've ever seen on you.

"Hey," I whisper and you peek out from underneath your arm.

"Yes?" you ask, your eye--the only one I can see--sparkling.

"C'mere."

You chuckle softly and roll into my arms, kissing me sweetly, slowly....

"Yes?" you repeat when you pull away, your big, brown eyes now only inches from mine.  They're filled with love and joy and I reach up to cup your face in my palm.

"You know I love you, right?" I ask quietly.  "I mean, I haven't said it...often...during...."  I make a gesture that's supposed to summarize our recent activities but it fails miserably.  I soldier on.  "But I do.  I'm so in love with you that I'm still not sure that this isn't some sort of hallucination or something.  The best damned hallucination ever, but still...not real.  But I am.  In love with you.  So very much."

God, do I always sound like that? I wonder, grimacing at my halting, inelegant speech.  Then I look at the ceiling.  On second thought, I don't want to know. 

"Trust me," you say, smiling, laughter rumbling through your body and then into mine.  "You've made that perfectly clear."  You brush tendrils of hair from my eyes.  "And--just for the record--I love you, too."

"Oh," I say, lost in the shifting light glimmering in your eyes.  "Good."

Christ! I think, rolling my eyes.  Can I have my vocabulary back, now?  Please?

You laugh again and reach up to kiss me and I get lost in that instead.  Just before we can start another round of "sleeping in," I hear a distant chirping sound.  I pull away from you and frown, asking, "Do you hear that?"

You tilt your head to the side and listen.  Suddenly, we both hear something else--and it's not very far away at all.

"Mommy?"

We look at each other, then down at our state of undress, then back at each other.  It's so perfectly choreographed, you'd almost believe we were starring in some sort of strange lesbian sit-com.

"Shit!" I whisper as you lunge for your tee-shirt at the bottom of the bed.  You yank it on over your head and are completely respectable in under three seconds.  I, however, have to get out of the bed, find the robe, figure out where the fucking arm holes are, somehow get into it and get it tied off before--

"Mommy?"  Emma pushes the door to your room open just as I pull the robe's tie tight around my waist.  She's holding my cell phone.  "Your phone was ringing," she explains.  "It said it was Uncle Sam!"  The excitement in her voice matches my own and I rush to take the phone from her.  I look at you and nod my head toward my room, telling you I want to call him back.

You grin and wave me off even as Emma throws herself onto your bed.  I can only imagine what kind of questions she's about to inundate you with. 

I hear her eager little girl's voice but not what she's saying as I return Sam's call.

He picks up on the half-ring.

"Liv?  Is that you?"

There's a lot of static on the line and he sounds like he's at the bottom of a well, but it's him.  It's my little brother.  Everything's going to be okay now.

"Sammy, it's me.  It's me."

"What's wrong?  I didn't get your message until today.  I was out of the country--still am, actually.  I'm in Italy, trying to get a flight to the UK.  Then home.  Liv, what's going on?  Is it the girls?  Are you sick again?"

He's babbling, just like he always does when he's worried or nervous.  But he's on his way home.  That's all that matters.

"It's Phillip, Sam.  He's come back.  He wants Emma.  Natalia and I have her; we're on the run.  But he's catching up to us.  I can feel it.  We need a place to stay, where we can drop off the map for a while.  The hotels are getting dangerous.  There's an Amber Alert for her.  The bastard is calling me a kidnapper--"

"Liv.  Liv!  What are you talking about?  Slow down.  What is--  Natalia?  Gus' wife?  Olivia, I'm lost."

"I bet," I chuckle ruefully.  "Listen, I can explain later.  When will you be home?  Can we stay with you?  Please, Sam.  We need you."  I whisper the last, hoping he can hear it over the static. 

"Yes.  Yes!  Of course.  I'll be home--what's today?  Tuesday?  By Thursday, at the latest.  I'll try to push it faster.  How are you traveling?  By car?"

"At the moment," I say. 

"Okay.  Good.  There really isn't an airport near my place.  Get a map, Liv, and head toward Beta, North Carolina.  It's in the Blue Ridge Mountains, near Cullowhee.  I have a cabin there.  How long will it take you to get there?  Where are you?"

"The Blue Ridge Mountains?" I ask, hoping I don't sound as completely shocked as I feel.  The last time I heard from Sam, he was living in New York.  "What the fuck?  Journalism too hard for you?  Did you give it up to become a NASCAR-lovin' redneck--"

His laughter stops my diatribe, reminding me of how he was as a kid.  Ten-years-old and a troublemaker as only we Spencers can be, following every prank with that laugh.  "No, Sis, I'm a college professor.  A respectable citizen.  At least part-time, anyway.  I'll tell you all about it when you get there.  Where are you again?"

"Oklahoma City," I say, ignoring the thousand questions I have for my little brother now and trying to imagine a US map in my head.  I used to be very good at geography.  Before some brilliant fucker invented the GPS, that is.  Now, I'm very good at pressing buttons.  "Twenty hours away?  Maybe less."

"A little less, I think.  Okay.  Head to Beta.  I'll call you tomorrow, give you the directions to my cabin."

I close my eyes.  I can feel the tension in my shoulders and in my gut begin to ease.  Finally.  Finally, we have help.  "I don't know how to thank you, Sammy," I whisper.

"Liv, everything's going to be okay now.  I won't let Phillip touch a hair on Emma's head.  Or yours.  You know that.  I'll call you tomorrow."

Then--just like that--the line is dead, the static silenced.  But I feel like Sam's here with me, with us.  Right here.  Protecting us.  Keeping us safe. 

I rub my forehead and look up to the ceiling, my mouth twisting with reticence. 

"I suppose I should thank You, too," I pray, shrugging. 

I mean, it can't hurt, right?

-----
TBC



Comments are love!

DiNovia
 
 
 
shayshaych_03 on August 1st, 2009 01:37 am (UTC)
fan freaking tastic. this story is so worth waiting for :)
druidesswolfdruidesswolf on August 1st, 2009 08:07 am (UTC)
ok so...I am a lurker to the extreme I think I've only commented on a story once in the 10 years I've been reading fanfic and as you can imagine I've read ALOT in that time. And I can honestly say with all my fanfic otalia loving heart, that this is BY FAR...the very best story I have EVER read! You have managed to capture the characters perfectly while making them completely your own and providing us beleagured readers with an absolutely enchanting original story that truely is a masterpiece. I'm serious! This whole journey has been an emotional roller coaster few authors can ever achieve and it's beautifully written....and it REALLY doesn't hurt that the love scences are sooooo....genuine and HOT and full of love and passion that we all know these two have locked away deep inside. So, simply put..THANK YOU..and PLEASE update soon?!?!? Please??
lazydevil69lazydevil40 on August 1st, 2009 09:03 am (UTC)
Absolutely awesome =D

I love the tension, the sense of relief for Olivia now she's got Sam's help and the hot scenes were perfect. Can't wait for the next update.
frenhufrenhu on August 1st, 2009 09:58 am (UTC)
Oh, now who's need an A/C? Or a cold shower?

Your story is unbelievable fantastic! Please update more often! :)
little_ruby: otalia_glowlittle_ruby on August 1st, 2009 10:02 am (UTC)
with this story, it doesn't really matter how long I have to wait. because I sooo know that it's worth the waiting.

awesome update!!!! :D
darandkerry: Otaliadarandkerry on August 1st, 2009 11:52 am (UTC)
I have to admit to being very nervous about 'the morning after' but am so very happy to see my fears blown right out of the water... the hot, hot water.... the steamy water... the hot and steamy water. In fact, I find myself in need of cold water at the moment. *g*

Well done. I loved the way Natalia reassured Olivia and I definitely loved the way Olivia 'reassured' Natalia. Can't wait to 'hear' the Natalia/Emma chat. :)
djskyplayerdjskyplayer on August 2nd, 2009 12:29 pm (UTC)
Sweet Jesus in Heaven! Every time I start to give up on this story, you update. Maaaad props! I don't even know where to start--I loved Olivia in this chapter. I felt for her with every agonizing moment she remembered (for Emma, for Ava, for her grandson, and little Natalia). I giggled at her teasing, "Is that what they're calling it..." . I gaped at her baser instincts (WOW!...really, just WOOOOW!). I smiled at her connection to Sam, because no matter their distance apart, their sibling love is palpable.

It's always an absolute pleasure to read another chapter of your story.
Revolos55: Otalia - Bench Cuddlerevolos55 on August 18th, 2009 06:59 am (UTC)
Holy hell. Cold shower now please.

Christ! I think, rolling my eyes. Can I have my vocabulary back, now? Please? - Ha!