Work Text:
Detective Amanda Rollins is Kat’s superior in age, in years of experience, and in rank, and altogether this makes her all the more attractive - and all the more unattainable.
A work crush is exactly what it is. It’s not like this is her first: Kat is used to feeling like she’s floating - a mix of euphoria and admiration - when she gets to work alongside an accomplished, beautiful, whip-smart older woman who offers her respect and trust, but challenges her all the same.
Given everything, Kat has no intention of acting on anything, but sometimes she’ll skirt the line - get a little flirty and have some fun with it - because the rapport that has grown between them makes it so damn easy. Rollins doesn’t seem to mind, either.
Amanda’s hands are a real distraction, though.
The moment they first introduce themselves, the morning of Kat’s first day at SVU, it’s when Amanda’s soft handshake meets her firm one that she realizes this woman is probably nothing like the detective she’d crafted in her head, pieced together based on assumptions gathered from the outside.
Over time, Kat notices how Amanda bites her thumbnail when she’s deep in thought, and the way she’ll lead a victim to the interview room with a palm gently resting against their back as a comfort. Sometimes, she’ll look across the squadroom to find Rollins stuck on hold during what must be her dozenth phone call of the shift, idly - and unknowingly - tapping her desk while she waits for an answer she’s hellbent on receiving.
The most distracting is when Amanda’s long, slender fingers play with her straw as she takes little sips of her mixed drink, the Friday night they’re out late celebrating Kat’s six months on the job. Rollins is smirking and swaying in her seat to some smooth Americana song that fills the hipster bar, her sultry Southern drawl coming out now that she’s had a few too many. Kat can’t pry her eyes away, doesn’t really want to try.
“Wha- Do I have somethin’?” Amanda questions, and it jolts Kat’s focus. Rollins points her index finger toward her face, her thumb stretching out to the side to make a lazy L-shape, and Kat takes a deep breath.
“No, no - you’re all good, Rollins,” Kat says, shaking her head and laughing hastily as she turns her attention to the remaining shot glass sitting in front of her, now secured between both her hands. She picks up the flute and throws it back, wishing it would magically make her as drunk as her colleague, though she wasn’t sure that would actually help the situation.
“You know I care a lot about you, right?” Rollins says, pausing until Kat turns to meet her gaze before she continues. “I know it took us a while, but I- I can’t imagine not havin’ you around. Your first six is a big deal. I’m proud of you, Tamin.”
Rollins reaches a hand over to cover Kat’s forearm and gives it a little squeeze, warmth radiating from her smile, her eyes, the touch of her skin.
Kat returns her smile, brushes a hand over Amanda’s for a beat before using it to prop up her chin, elbow resting on the bar. “That means a lot, Rollins. Thanks for celebrating with me.”
Amanda nods silently, drawing her hand back and staring down at what remains of her drink, then she winks at Kat over her shoulder, quick enough that if Kat had blinked, she would have missed it.
Before Kat can fully process the exchange, Rollins has her phone out and she’s showing Kat a video of Jesse and Billie exclaiming, almost but not quite in unison, 'Hi, Auntie Kat! Please come play with us soon! Your hair is so pretty!' They’re both dressed in Disney princess nightgowns, their little hands waving in and out of the camera’s view.
Kat nearly melts from the cuteness, and she tells Amanda so. Pretty soon they've changed subjects to discussing their equally complicated and varied feelings on the topic of kids, and motherhood, and mothers and daughters. It's always the deep dives that they manage to get into after long nights endcapping long work weeks.
If circumstances were different, Kat would have leaned in after the wink, captured Amanda’s mouth in hers and invited her over once they broke apart, breathless and yearning for more. But circumstances are how they are, and Kat thinks, maybe, that they’re meant to be this way - that this version of them is more meaningful than any other possibility.
She’ll probably never get over her hands, though.