Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/100385.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      F/F
  Fandom:
      Law_&_Order:_SVU
  Relationship:
      Olivia_Benson/Maureen_Stabler
  Character:
      Olivia_Benson, Maureen_Stabler
  Additional Tags:
      Cross-Generation_Relationship, other_ficathon
  Stats:
      Published: 2005-01-25 Words: 261
****** Questioning + Rape in the Third Degree ******
by projectcyborg
Summary
     tri-fandom drabble-a-thon jr. hosted by me ~ prompt = Q then R
Notes
     words: 130 +130. second part wasn't posted until 9/25.
"Olivia, I think I might like, um, you know, girls."
The words tumble out in a fervent whisper, and Olivia nearly drops a piece of
Kathy's china. She'd offered to help Maureen do the dishes.
"I couldn't think of anyone else I could tell."
Maureen is looking up at her, and the furrow between her brows, the protruding
arc of her lower lip, the blush filigreeing across her cheek are hieroglyphics:
you're the only lesbian I know (are you a lesbian?) my parents are gonna freak
(what's wrong with me?) you're prettier than my teachers (why can't I stop
thinking about your breasts?) Olivia, Olivia, Olivia.
Olivia swallows twice, gingerly places the plate she's drying on the
countertop. "Why don't we go up to your room and talk about this?"
===============================================================================
Maureen babbles and inches closer on the bed until Olivia can see the
striations in her irises. In her head, Olivia recites S.130: "incapacity to
consent by reason of being less than seventeen years old..."
What she says is, "It's OK."
She watches one tear gather in the corner of Maureen's eye. When the droplet
spills out, Olivia touches it with her fingertip.
Twenty minutes later, she's working her palm under Maureen's panties with
excruciating gentleness. Parting her lips and brushing her clit once, twice.
Searching lower for wetness.
Olivia's shirt is open, and Maureen's face is buried in her cleavage, muffling
her gasps. Olivia has to bite her own tongue to strangle a moan as she slides
one finger inside.
What she thinks is: I have my father's hands.
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