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She’s still up - sipping on a cup of tea in her pjs on the couch, Frannie Mae asleep on her lap - when he lets himself into her apartment. And maybe it should be awkward, letting himself in, toeing his shoes off in the doorway and placing his coat on the hook he’d for many months come to think of as his. But the scent of her favourite candle wafts into his nose, the warm glow of her lamp familiar and comforting; it just feels like home. Even as his fingers trill against his thigh with the memory of her collarbone. Even as his throat thickens with nerves and excitement and terror. Just a few hours ago she’d been cradling his jaw, blurring the line between dream and reality as her lips met his. Just a few hours ago he’d climbed into an Uber with Liv, one final loaded glance thrown towards the lights on the Hudson, her “come by after” lingering in his mind.
“Hey.” She smiles and it loosens some of the anxiety swirling rudderlessly around his ribcage. With soft steps he moves towards her, heart swelling at the casual intimacy of this, of being let into this quiet moment. There’s a new photo on the mantel of Jesse and Billie with their grandparents and a sharp flare of pride burns through him. Frannie Mae opens her eyes and drums a dull thudding with her tail as he settles onto the couch, the memory of new years eve heavy in his gut, and Amanda shuffles incrementally closer into his side, her shoulder bumping against his clavicle.
When her voice breaks the bubble of comfortable hush it is low and pensive. “So, you had someone to call.” It’s not a question but it is, and he doesn’t know how to answer it. The silence drags on while he picks mutely at words and Amanda elaborates, “After…” she takes a deep breath and he can feel her resolve forming in the tensing of muscle against his side, “After I kissed you, there was someone you needed to call? There was,” she corrects herself quickly and his hand dashes to hers on the amendment, “-is… someone?”
“Was.”
For a moment he thinks that might suffice, that maybe - just maybe - the universe will give them this one unscathed. All the times he’d imagined that first kiss with Amanda, never had it been followed by an uncomfortable stilted call to an ex. But the breakup with Nicole had been vague and messy; a combination of raw emotions and fear of severing one more connection, fear of ending up alone at their age. It was over, but they had tried to mask that with ambiguities and an uncertain “let’s take some time”. With everything happening in the world it had seemed too much to cleave off any connection. But Amanda sincere against him changed everything. He needed this clean, he needed whatever came next to be in clear conscience.
“Before Atlanta I knew- but I guess I just thought it was over. You never mentioned…”
Carisi sighs, the old wave of regret and confusion washing over him. “I know.”
“I should’ve asked when I got back. Instead of jus’ rolling it up in the nightmare that was those few weeks. You’d tried to tell me something important and I should’ve follow up on that.”
“You did.” He thinks of that hospital waiting room, the absolute knowledge that he was where he needed to be, how they’d kept each other afloat. She had always been his tether, that day he got to be hers. And he’d been so scared that she would close up at the divulgence, scurry backwards from their affinity, try to shelter them both from the emotional fallout. To tell her would make it real, make the choice final. “I shoulda told you.”
“You never did before.” The truth of that pulls him up short. For all the honesty he’d always expected from her, she’s not wrong. He’d never been able to tell her.
“Nicole. Her- uh, her sister was abducted while you were up with your Dad, so the squad knows her. We met a- a few months back, at that conference.”
She shifts against him, creates a sliver more space between their thighs. But still her hand is secure in his, her fingers warm and steady against his own. Partners always have each others backs.
“Carisi, I didn’t mean to make things complicated for you. If this isn’t-“
His head snaps towards her, the intensity of his voice followed swiftly by a cringe at his own tone. “It is.” A heavy look exudes from his gaze which she evades.
“If there’s somewhere else you-“
“There isn’t. Look, Rollins, you know I-
“It’s okay, Carisi, I’m a big girl. It was-“ She flounders on a word, foolish hangs on the tip of her tongue, a mistake fits the script but she can’t bring herself to regret it. Even if it results in heartbreak. His lungs freeze in wait, their future hanging in the balance. "I didn’t know about… Nicole. And I know I come with a lot; Jesse and Billie and all that… baggage. We can just… rewind.”
He turns towards her, knee pressing against her leg with urgency, eyes blazing with conviction. “Amanda, will ya stop trying to give me an out here.” And finally she meets his gaze, lets their eyes linger.
For years he’d looked at her and seen locked doors, flashes of truths he had not yet earned, hints at depths that she held in reserve. But it had been changing - since his transfer, since Bucci, since Atlanta. Where before there had been veils now there was only open blue. Where he had been becoming guarded she had been softening.
He’s surprised by the truth that spills from his tongue rough and halfway to whispered, “I don’t wanna scare you off.” And he watches her recoil slightly before she blinks and recenters, her fingers flexing around his in a quiet promise. “I know who you are, Amanda Rollins, and this-“ his hand releases hers to flail around them, motioning to the kids toys in the corner, the scribbled pictures displayed on the fridge, the nearness of their forms on the couch. He takes a breath, closes his eyes to bite back the ineloquent rambling of emotion thats threatening to slip through his teeth. “I’m here. I’m in. I'm yours.”
The smile floods through her expression, tension dropping from her shoulders and a long held breath releasing. Amanda leans against him fully, fingers entangling with his.
And Carisi takes it all in; the distant sound of Billie’s mobile playing lullabies, the dull creak of pipes behind the wall, the rhythmic whooshing of the ventilation system atop the neighbouring building. He revels in the pressure of Amanda’s ear over his heart, the damp heat of Frannie Mae’s nose brushing against his knee. The exhaustion leaking from his bones competes with the exaltation thrumming through his veins.
This time it’s him that reaches out, his palm on her cheek, his fingers tilting her face up, drawing her closer. “I’m all in,” There was no wading in here, it was always going to be a deep-dive. No matter what came next, in a thousand lifetimes, a million different timelines, he would always choose this. “Partner.”