Three Times Natalia Wanted To Cheat

by gilligankane

AUTHOR'S NOTE: based on buffyfreak31's prompt, just changed from five to three because the other two didn't come out the way i wanted them too. thanks for the prompt.

AUTHOR'S NOTE 2: number 2 and 3 are angsty. fair warning.

i. during cards

Olivia looks inordinately pleased with herself. She's smirking and laughing and her aviators have slipped down on her nose.

Aviators , Natalia snorts under her breath. We're in the house and she's wearing aviators .

On cue, she adjusts her own sunglasses, lifting them a little to catch a glimpse of her cards, the tips of her fingers tracing over the Domino's Pizza lettering on the side. She's got a somewhat decent hand – two cards short of straight.

“If you win,” Olivia says, glancing down at her cards with a slight frown. “You get whatever you want?”

She grins triumphantly. “ Whatever ,” she repeats solidly.

“And if I win…” Olivia prompts.

“If you win, you get whatever you want,” she responds quickly, her eyes narrowing. “Within limits ,” she clarifies.

Olivia pouts. “Well, I can work with that.”

They flip the turn card and Olivia groans a little in a way that makes her stomach toss and turn and seize up into her throat; in a way that makes her not even care about the flop, because she'd rather be across the table, winding her fingers into Olivia's hair and finding the back of Olivia's teeth with her tongue.

Although, the card doesn't really work out for her either, marring her straight. It doesn't even matter what the flop is, she won't win this one.

And it's a damn shame, she figures, because she knows exactly what she wanted from Olivia.

“Hey there spaceman, get your head out of the clouds,” Olivia calls from the other side of the kitchen table, leaning forward on her elbows. “You've got to bet,” she says teasingly.

I bet on you , Natalia wants to say. But her mouth says call instead and her hands push forward the right number of chips.

Olivia snorts. “Oh honey,” she crows as the river is dealt. “Oh, you poor, poor baby.”

Because Olivia has four of a kind – kings – and even if she had gotten her eight and her four, she never would have beat the other woman.

“And for my reward,” Olivia breathes out, moving up and around the table, extending a hand to Natalia. She grabs it and rises from her own seat, her body moving into Olivia's like a perfect fit. “I was thinking,” Olivia says nonchalantly, her words and breath tickling Natalia's ear. “That next movie night,” she continues.

Natalia can feel her heart beat faster, because next ‘movie night' Emma isn't going to be home.

“All the movies we watch have to be made before you were born,” she finishes with a laugh and Natalia lets out the breath she didn't know she was holding.

Olivia thinks she's hilarious.

Natalia just wishes she had won: Olivia would have liked it.

ii. during a snowstorm

“Only us, huh?” Olivia quips, smiling humorlessly from the couch, from the smallest corner of the couch where she settled hours ago. Natalia shifts restlessly on the chair, looking everywhere but at the couch.

Only them – only they would get themselves locked inside the farmhouse during a snowstorm, while the rest of the world was nestled away. Only they would be awkward and uncomfortable and anxious for the storm to pass.

Frank called to say he couldn't come home – the roads are blocked – and he was going to stay at the station until he could.

Which left Olivia on the couch, clutching the doll Emma couldn't live without to her chest that the little girl left behind the night before, after her sleepover; which left Natalia without any small talk and folded awkwardly in the chair she's sure no one has ever used before. Except for , she remembers the time before we even moved in and Decker just showed up .

Natalia just nods, tight-lipped. “Only us,” she repeats softly.

It's the first thing she's said since they figured out they were trapped and she muttered ohshitohshitohshit under her breath. It's the first thing she's said to Olivia besides Emma can come back next weekend too , if she wants . It's the first time she's let herself say anything more than yes, I'm happy with Frank and our house and the lack of little feet stomping up the staircase; Yes, I'm happy with Frank and my son and the absolute silence of the kitchen in the morning .

She should say more; she should have been saying more since that graveyard, since Olivia screamed love at the top of her lungs, but she dutifully followed the other woman back to the church and married the wrong man.

It seems like she's always marrying the wrong man these days.

“So,” Olivia starts, after too many more minutes of silence. “How's Frank?”

Natalia winces – she physically flinches in her seat. “He's fine,” she says tightly.

“Well, good” Olivia mumbles.

And then suddenly, it isn't good, because Olivia is surging out of her seat, launching across the living room and coming to an abrupt stop in front of Natalia's chair. It suddenly isn't good, because Olivia has that look in her eyes – the one she had before, right before Natalia said I do – and she knows what that means. It suddenly isn't good, because Natalia wants to be with Olivia just as desperately as Olivia wants to be with her.

“Natalia,” Olivia whispers, and her resolve almost breaks right there, because Frank never says her name like that: with love and hope and need . “Natalia,” but she stops Olivia right there.

“Don't,” she pleads. “Please, don't . I'm, I'm married.”

Olivia nods, but the nodding ends up being a shake. “I know, I know. I just, I'm still in love with you,” she says, her words trailing off.

“Don't,” Natalia repeats, her voice cracking in the middle of the word.

Because if Olivia does , she'll be an unfaithful woman, an adulterer – again – and she can't do it. She shouldn't have done it Harley and she can't do it to Frank.

Even if she wants to just as bad as Olivia does.

iii. during the end

There is a cycle to life: birth, the in between, and death. She's heard about it her entire life and how Jesus would grant her salvation for being a member of his flock.

But there's a realness to life that no one ever mentioned to her; a hard, long, painful process of life she never learned from the stories she was told.

She had a baby at sixteen – that was never in her fairytales.

She worked three jobs tirelessly and still didn't have enough money for everything Rafe wanted; everything he needed .

She found the man she thought she loved only to lose him again.

She was left with Olivia Spencer.

None of the bedtime stories, or the whispered fairytales ever prepared her for the life was given; for the people she was given; for Olivia Spencer. And still, those three remained: birth, the in between, and death.

She should have been prepared for this, because she knows that the ‘in between' is followed by death.

There's no other way for this to go, but it doesn't stop her from dropping to her knees in the hospital chapel and begging God to do something different; to take someone else; to take anything else.

Anything but Olivia.

“Please God,” she whispers into the empty chapel. “Please take anything but her. Please don't do this to me, not now; not her. Please give her a second wind just to get through this.” She bows her head. “You can have me,” she promises. “You can have me, just let her stay – just keep her here, with her daughters. Please don't take her from them.”

And for the first time since before Rafe, she feels like she's praying to no one. She feels like God has turned his back and his laughing at her petty offering, at her weak sacrifice. She feels like he's going to let Olivia die and she'll be left with nothing but the memories she's been collecting for ten years now; memories that fill every space of her mind and soul. She'll be left with a broken teenager and a broken woman, both who have their mother's smile. She'll be left with an empty house and an empty heart.

She'll be left without Olivia.

She digs her knees a little harder into the cushion-covered kneeler. “Please God,” she begs.

For the first time in forever, she wonders if she's praying to the wrong God.

And she wonders who she could pray to that would take her instead; who would let Olivia open her eyes again.