DISCLAIMER: Guiding Light and its characters are the property of Proctor & Gamble. No infringement intended.
TIMELINE: Takes place during episode of March 11th 2009.
ARCHIVING: Only with the permission of the author.
None of this had been part of the plan. Not ladies night. Not pouring her heart out to the bartender. And certainly not running into Doris Wolfe. But as Olivia stands there, a little thrown by the surreality of standing outside a lesbian bar with Mayor Wolfe, while a few miles away Frank proposes to the woman she loves, she can't help but wonder if there even is a plan any more. A part of her hopes that she's drunk, or alternatively dreaming, but she knows deep down that it's real. She knows deep down that she can't escape from the whirlwind that has become her life and somewhere, somehow, she's going to have to figure this one out.
Now that she's here, now that she's had a moment to think, she starts to realise that some of it, at least, makes just a little bit of sense. If she believed in God, she might even take it as a sign. She'd had no plan, no destination in mind when she'd fled the house earlier that night. She was just running. Running from her feelings. Running from the fact that, at a home that will soon cease to be hers, Frank is down on one knee, trying to claim the woman that she loves. Running from the feelings that she knows she can never reveal. She was running blind, and she ended up here. At ladies night. How much plainer did it need to be?
The bartender tells her not to bother. That religious chicks will break her heart. And in a flash, before she even realises what she's doing, she's on her feet, defending Natalia, as she's done so many times in recent months and as she knows she always will. Another answer handed to her right there, gift-wrapped on a silver platter. She'll always defend Natalia; she'll defend her to the death, and all because she loves her. She'll do anything for Natalia. Anything.
Anything but sit there and smile sweetly as Natalia agrees to give her heart to someone else. Anything but that.
She knows she loves Natalia. She's accepted that much. She fought against it at first, but now she knows with every look, with every touch, with every word that she loves her, and she's ok with that. She knows that she loves her, but she also knows that she has to let her go.
All along, she's been waiting for a sign. A sign to tell her that she's doing the right thing. A sign to tell her that Natalia will be happier with Frank, that things will be better that way. But however hard she looks, the signs all point in the opposite direction. The signs all point to Natalia loving her back.
And it's what that love means for them, what it means for her, that she can't quite figure out. What that love makes her. She doesn't want a label, she's not ready for that. But as she looks round at the room full of women, women of all ages, shapes and sizes, she can't help but wonder if what she feels for Natalia makes her one of them.
And then she spots Doris. Just when she thinks that her evening can't possibly get any stranger, she spots Mayor Doris Wolfe, skulking in a trenchcoat and hat, as if she's stepped straight out of the pages of some old detective novel. Doris is skulking and Olivia is confused. Olivia is confused as hell.
For a few moments they just stare at each other, Doris a rabbit caught in the headlights, Olivia contemplating her next move. And then Doris grabs her by the arm and now they are outside, shivering against the snow and trading accusations like a game of catch. Doris tries denial, but Olivia's far too clever for that. She tries bribery but Olivia doesn't want to know. Olivia's angry and she wants explanations. Olivia's fuming, and Doris doesn't exactly blame her. Deep down she knows what she did was wrong, but she had her reasons and she'll try to make the other woman understand.
Olivia's mad, but deep down she's also a little relieved. Olivia's furious, but it comforts her to know that among all the madness, she's found a familiar face.
She's angry and she's scared. She's scared because she can't help but wonder if the way that Doris has lived her life is what's in store for her. She's scared because she can't imagine a future for herself, ruled by secrets, lies and pretense. She's scared, but she can't quite bring herself to say the words. She can't say the words, and Doris just keeps on pushing, needing to justify herself, to explain. The mayor has recovered from her momentary weakness and she's looking to shift the blame.
"Your daughter wrote a paper called 'My Two Mommies' and you swore up and down that you were not a lesbian. And here you are. On ladies night. Hangin' out." Doris pauses to emphasise her point. "Are you a lesbian, Olivia?"
Olivia is silent. "You tell me!" she wants to scream. She's aching to tell Doris that she doesn't know the answer to her question. She's desperate to tell her about the feelings she's having that she doesn't understand. She's burning to tell her about Natalia and Frank and Emma and why she's even here. But the words won't come, and so she carries on staring straight ahead, while Doris reads her silence as defiance and just ploughs right on through her pain.
"That's what I thought. So tell me what's so honest about the way you live your life?"
Doris shoots her a knowing look and makes to walk off, but Olivia can't let her go. She can't find the words but she needs to make Doris understand. She needs to find some way out of this confusion. And before she's had a chance to think about what she's doing, she's grabbed Doris's arm and turned her round and she's kissing her, the same way she kissed Natalia a few weeks ago when words just weren't enough to make her meaning clear.
For a few seconds Doris kisses her back, then reality suddenly seems to kick in, and she pulls back. "What the f..." she begins, but Olivia doesn't let her finish.
"Shut up Doris." she says roughly, her voice suddenly thick with something which sounds like a cross between frustration and desire. "You asked me if I was a lesbian? There's your answer."
Doris's eyes grow wide, taking in the assertiveness of Olivia's words, her tone in stark contrast to the raw vulnerability in her eyes. Olivia stares at her, defying her to look away, and Doris stares back refusing to give in. She frowns, searching for something to say, something to break this stalemate and give herself the upper hand.
"Wait a second. You don't get to just..."
And then they are kissing again. But this time she doesn't pull away. This time it is Doris who closes the gap and and Olivia is ready for her, her lips parting as Doris draws close, her hands tightening around the other woman's back as the force of Doris's kiss pushes her roughly into the wall behind them.
Doris knows that she's playing a dangerous game. But right now her mind can only think of one thing. Olivia knows. Olivia knows, and she doesn't have to hide. Olivia knows, and she is kissing her. Olivia knows, and she has chosen to stay.
Of course Doris knows that this isn't really about her. It's about Natalia, it's about Olivia, it's about Frank and Emma and Rafe. It's about confusion and curiosity and a million other things. A million other things that don't matter, because in this brief moment in time, Olivia is choosing her, and it's a long time since Doris has been chosen by anyone, whatever their motivation. It's a long time since Doris has been chosen and her body is telling her quite clearly what it needs her to do.
Doris's hat thuds softly as it falls in the snow, displaced by Olivia's hands as they snake upwards to tangle in Doris's hair and pull her closer. Olivia deepens the kiss, probing the mayor's tongue with her own and relishing its softness. It's the first time she's kissed a woman. Well, properly anyway. The first time she's kissed a woman and that woman has kissed her back. The first time she's felt a woman's lips moving across hers, a woman's tongue tangling with her own. She can feel the sensation everywhere. It's in the swirling in her head, in the weakness in her legs, in the tightness in her chest and groin. She doesn't love Doris, but that doesn't matter. This isn't about love. This is the old Olivia Spencer shining through. This is about discovery, about passion, about power. Olivia needs to know what this is like, what this thing she feels is all about. She needs the answers that only Doris can give.
Doris doesn't speak as Olivia takes her hand and leads her to her car. She doesn't ask where they're going as Olivia drives through the dark and snowy roads, but merely stares straight ahead, her breathing regular and deep, stealing occasional glances at the woman in the seat beside her. Olivia is silent too, focussing on the road, on their destination. Neither of them are quite sure where they're going, yet neither of them seem particularly surprised when Olivia pulls up outside the Beacon and brings the car to a halt.
Doris dons her hat, and Olivia wants to tell her it's ok. Olivia wants to tell her that she's safe, that she doesn't need to pretend any more, that it's late and no-one will notice and no-one will care. But she knows that she can't promise her that, so instead she walks the deserted corridors in silence, following the familiar path to her room, not needing to look round to know that the mayor is following closely behind.
No sooner has she closed the door than Olivia presses Doris up against it, divesting her of her hat and tossing it across the room as their lips meet again. The coat is the next casualty of Olivia's crusade, and as she slips it off the mayor's shoulders, she can't help but stand back and admire what she finds underneath. Gone are the hideous blazers, the straight cut skirts. Doris is dressed simply in a pair of tight fitting jeans, and a black top, cut at a perfect level and clinging to her skin in all the right places. In that moment, Olivia thinks it might be the sexiest outfit she has ever seen and she stands for a moment, admiring the woman before her.
Doris can't help but smile as she notices the lust in the other woman's eyes and the shocked drop of her jaw. She can't help but smile, because she knows that she has done that. She smiles because she knows that, whatever they've started, whatever brought them to this place, in this moment, Olivia is attracted to her and she loves the way that feels.
Doris takes advantage of the hotelier's momentary transfixion to wrestle control of the situation, and now it is Olivia's back against the door and Doris's hands exploring, pushing at clothing, marking their territory. Olivia shivers with pleasure as Doris pushes her jacket off her shoulders and trails perfectly manicured fingernails along the flesh of her bare arms. She's still not sure how she ended up here, but she can't believe how delicious this feels. Delicious and sensual and illicit. Illicit not because Doris is a woman, but because of who she is. Illicit because between them, they have the power to control pretty much anyone and anything in this town, but until now that power has always been pitted against each other. Until now they have always been fighting.
And now this is an entirely different kind of fight.
Olivia is acutely aware of the feeling of Doris's breasts pressed against her own. It's a feeling she's never experienced before, and she's hyper conscious of the flimsy fabric of their clothes, the only thing separating them now. Her hands work their way under Doris's top and lever it over her head, as, in a burst of strength, she propels herself away from the door and steers Doris, now clad in just a, surprisingly practical, bra and jeans, towards the waiting bed.
"Have you even done this before?" Doris asks warily, watching while the hotelier removes her own top.
Olivia glares at her. "Don't tell me. You're just rolling in the offers, back there in the closet."
Doris casts her her most withering of looks. "Olivia."
If Doris's voice is a warning, Olivia's is nothing short of a growl as she pins the mayor back onto the spacious bed and hovers over her, a lioness contemplating its prey.
Doris exhales deeply as she feels Olivia's eyes slowly travel the length of her body, burning a path in her flesh, and she can't help but arch into the other woman as fingers creep across the fly of her jeans.
Olivia is surprisingly tender as she tugs the tight denim over Doris's hips and legs and kisses random trails across the naked flesh in front of her. Doris closes her eyes, and wishes, not for the first time in her life, that she could just relax and enjoy the moment. But she's always alert, always on her guard, always expecting the worst.
"Shit." Doris swears under her breath, her thoughts forgotten in an instant, as Olivia slowly, carefully works her way under the hem of her silky underwear. Olivia hears Doris swear and she feels her heat and she knows she's right. It's been a long time and Doris is more than ready for this.
Olivia makes a funny squeaking noise as Doris suddenly lets go of her lingering inhibitions and flips her over on the soft duvet, kissing her, forcefully and passionately, breaking the contact only to remove Olivia's own trousers and feel the sleek bare legs tangling with her own. Olivia feels Doris's hips twist and a firm thigh push between her legs, and in that moment she realises that it's not only Doris who's been waiting far too long. She can't remember the last time she had sex, and she hadn't been aware of the need and frustration building slowly inside her until now, until a mouth on her breast and fingers on her hips and a thigh between her legs all threaten to push her over the edge long before she's ready to go.
Olivia's never done this before, not on another woman at least, but she knows her own body. She knows what she likes, and she's guided by Doris's soft whimpers as she slips two fingers inside her and begins to circle them slowly against the tight walls. The swearing gets louder as Doris's body arches towards her and soon Doris is screaming obscenities as a sweat breaks on her brow and her whole body is centred on Olivia's rhythmic thrusting. Olivia spares a brief thought for the inhabitants of the next room, but she's pretty sure it's empty and the tableau beneath her is too majestic to be spoiled as Doris writhes and sweats and swears and Olivia knows it's all because of her.
She feels her own breathing quicken as Doris's thigh flexes against her, matching her own rhythm and soon Doris's hands are gripping below the small of her back and they are pushing together, both pushing and twisting and thrusting until finally Doris shouts and Olivia gasps and they collapse in a tangled heap on the bed, sweating and breathless, clinging to each other, their animosity replaced by the intimacy they've just shared.
Her eyes only half open, Olivia watches as Doris moves around the room, wrapped in a sheet, collecting her clothes which are scattered throughout.
"You're not staying?" Olivia's voice sounds small and strangely insecure as she huddles under the comforter, and Doris almost melts at the disappointment in her tone, fighting back a sudden desire to rush over to the bed and take her in her arms. When she speaks, her voice is soft and her eyes are full of compassion.
"I don't want Ashlee to wonder where I am."
"Yeah," Olivia murmurs softly. "Yeah." She sits up in bed, her voice gaining weight, becoming more solid, more secure by the moment. "I should get back to Emma."
"And Natalia." Olivia doesn't say it, but Doris hears it and as the name hangs in the air between them, Doris knows that she has to leave. She has to leave now, before she lets this go any further than it already has. She has to leave, because she can't let Olivia know that she's already under her skin.
Her fingers on the door handle, she turns back to face the other woman. She smiles fleetingly before her features settle into an altogether different expression.
"If you ever tell anyone..." she begins, intending to repeat her threat from earlier in the evening, but a hollow laugh from Olivia cuts her off, and she looks up mid flow.
"Oh believe me," Olivia assures her. "It's nothing compared to what I'll do to you if you ever tell anyone about this." She folds her arms across her chest and eyes the mayor defiantly, proving that she can give just as good as she gets.
Doris merely smiles and nods, before crossing back to the bed and taking Olivia's hand in her own. "Then we understand each other perfectly," she murmurs, her eyes tinged with sadness. She bends down, allows herself to touch her lips to Olivia's one final time, then, sweeping up her coat and hat, she's gone, leaving Olivia to piece together this latest episode of her life.
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