#spousal privilege

“Went to the gym first.” Was all he said ordering a drink for himself. 

He fibbed. He wasn’t at the gym, in fact the last twenty-some times he’d used that excuse it was nothing more than an excuse. Most of the time, he was drowning himself in alcohol or dialing Maria’s phone number begging for her to talk to him. This time he was mentally yelling at himself for screwing up his relationship with Maria and now loosing his daughter. This case wasn’t helping, seeing Paula and A.J. having issues not exactly the same as he was in but they also couldn’t fix them, the only way he found how was the hit Paula. Nick could never allow himself to do that, no matter the problems he and Maria had. He would never lay his hands on her, not even in a joking manner. He wasn’t that man. His marriage was hanging off an edge of a cliff, Maria didn’t want to talk anymore, she didn’t want to see him; she wanted to leave. He didn’t blame her, he allowed it to happen. When he was finally able to talk, she was leaving. 

“You okay?” Amanda asked. “That was rough.” 

“Well, Calhouns just doing his job.” 

“Yeah, but she had no right to go after you like that.” Amanda said taking another sip of her drink then scoffing. “She’s got a point though.” 

“Yeah?” He chuckled, trying to hide his confusion. “Yeah, what point is that?” 

“That it’s a private---private manner...” Amanda was trying to composure herself, to pass off that she was sober but she looked anything but. The blonde resembled a kid who had just found alcohol, over indulging their selves in it. “between Paula Martin and her husband. I just think we’re over reaching.” 

Nick sits up straight, “Amanda, he hit her. End of story.” He couldn’t believe he was having to stress that point to Amanda of all people. He knew he shouldn’t have to, any sane person on this earth would feel the same but her, being an Special victims detective made it worse. She had a job to fight for the victims not the bully. 

“So, we get to decide what’s best for her? That’s infantilizing. That’s” She scoffs again. “that’s making her the victim all over again.” Amanda couldn’t help but chuckle. 

Nick looked at her, in disbelief. “Take it easy.”

Amanda did the opposite. “You counting my drinks now?” She accused in a annoyed tone. Nick clenched his jaw at Amanda, watching her stare at him in her drunken glaze. “Saint Nick? Right? Savior of damaged women.” She said leaning closer to him. 

“Stop.” Nick said in a loud tone. “Look, all I’m saying is: no man has the right to hit a woman.” 

“That’s right. That’s right.” Amanda agreed. “But some of us, don’t need to be saved. Okay? Like you married a woman who didn’t. Right? Maria?” She chuckles, proud of herself. “I saw the way she went after you in the squad--” 

“I never laid a hand on Maria.” He interrupts her, angered. 

She continues egging him on. “Yeah, but you never wanted too?” Not at all?” She asks leaning closer, she not even in her chair anymore, now standing on her own two feet trying to get right into his face. “She got to you.” A wicked smile appears on her face. “She still gets to you.” She pushes him, her hand colliding with his shoulder and shoving him away. 

“Right.” Nick agrees, trying to turn his attention back to this drink. 

“Huh, that doesn’t get to you?” 

“No.” 

She pushes him once again, harder this time. “Come on. That wouldn’t get to you?”

“No.” ‘

‘Really? How about that?” She speaks quicker now, pushing him harder and harder. Trying desperately to prove her point. “Come on, Nick, I know it does.” 

“Are you jealous of Maria?” Is that whats happening now?” He asks in both annoyance and anger, hoping that just maybe this would stop her pathetic attempt to anger him further. 

It’s her turn to look at him in disbelief. “Really? That’s where you’re going with this?” She asks. 

Nick’s plan failed, miserably. ‘Then what are we talking about here?” He asks. 

“You! Nick!” She says pushing him again. Harder, now grabbing the front of his shirt, tightening her grip around the cotton material. “No, no, no, Just drop the rock. No, we’ve just all seen you loose it. The whole squad room heard you yelling at your wife on the phone.” She continues pushing him, pulling him so he has no choice but to look at her in the eyes. “Listen, Paula Martin has the right to choose whether she presses charges or not. Okay? Because some of us don’t want to be victims.” She hit him this time, forcefully colliding her hand with his chest. 

“Hey!” He shouts. Rising to his feet so quickly, he kicks his chair back. He walks right in front of her, towering of her. His breathe quickens and he steps back, being a better man than she was expecting to get. He hits his drink, causing it to shatter on the floor. He wanted to yell at her but the last thing he was going to do was give her exactly what she wanted. He was done. 

“Alright, I’m gonna do what A.J. Martin should have done” He pulls his wallet out, slamming money on the counter, “walk away.” He gives her one last look, grabbing her drink before walking away. All eyes are on Amanda know, the drunken blonde causing a scene in the bar. 

Amanda resumed her seat at the bar, chuckling with amusement. “They’re all alike! They think they can tell us what to do. Order us around and all because of that thing they have in their pants.” She chuckles again. 

It wasn’t long before the bartender cut her off, telling her to get home. She argued as expected, going on about how she was a police officer and deserved respect. Unfortunately for Amanda, she was escorted out of the bar and told to come back when she could behave herself. The left her tab open as a courtesy to police officers but took her badge number in case she decided to skip paying it off.

She argued and kicked the whole way out, creating even more of a scene before tossing her jacket over her shoulder and stumbling down the road. She’d taken her hair out of the ponytail, letting her blonde hair flow in the slight breeze.

Amanda was drunk, far to drunk to think right and even worse could barely navigate where she was. Which helped stem her next bad decision. She pulled her cell phone out, after getting into a fight with her pocket. Dialed Nick’s number and held it to her ear.

He didn’t answer. It went straight it voicemail and he rant began. “Hey…. Nick, Nicky, nick.” She said in a slurred voice. “You… You are a good one, you know. Maria.. Maria, she doesn’t deserve you, I know that. Yo–you know that. Maybe you shouldn’t hit her but you should tell her you deserve better, you know? Tha–that you are better.” the sound of a car honking take her voice away from the phone as she shouts at it. “I’m on the phone asshole!” she tosses an arm up in the air angered. “But yeah… ” she says turning her attention back to the phone. “Just say it. Like you mean it. It’ll be fun, Nicky.” she takes the phone from her ear, glancing at the screen, ending the call before she spots another bar.

It was one thing she loved about New York, there was always a bar no matter where you were.

Nick’s eyes slowly fluttered open to the sound of a television in low, his head was pounding and his eyes were dry. Slowly, he sat up, letting the blanket fall from his chest when he noticed Maison was sitting in front of him. She was seated directly in front of his legs, a coffee mug in her hand and her eyes starring at the television paying no attention to him.

He groaned as fully sat up, “He’s alive.” Maison shouted with glee as she finally turned to face him.

Maison had a peculiar sense of humor and most of the time, it came out at the worst moments. They’d meet when she was just a rookie, had two weeks experience on the job when she stumbled upon a crime scene that had multiple illegal drugs and weapons. She was tiny but tall a good 5'7" with chocolate hair and a pair of light brown eyes. She was native to Staten Island but moved to The Bronx when she was eighteen. She joked at the scene in perfect ear shot of nick, “Maybe I should bag me up a few of these drugs for the headache, my paperwork is gonna give me.” Nick jokingly responding: “The dealer would give you hell.” It was a start of a beautiful friendship, with time she’d became a family member. “Aunt Maison.” Who came bearing gifts to make Maria and Nick miserable. As well as an outlet for Nick, when he and his wife fought, Maison would sit along side him listening as he went on and on about their problems. Usually within a few hours, he’d make his way back home to apologizes, coming to the conclusion he was in the wrong and things would be better until next time.

The most recent time, he came out drinking, a pained look on his face as he told the story of his wife cheating on him. Maison denied it, knowing with absolute positivity that she wouldn’t do that Nick or Zara. Only it didnt end there, Nick went full recon, spying on her and ultimately ruining his relationship for good. Rather than taking him home after their night of drinking, she was taking him to a hotel room and making him hand over his gun and go to bed. He was a mess. Which is how he wound up living with her, in her tiny two bedroom apartment. It’d been six months since he officially moved out of his home and into hers, boxes still sat in her living room and the spare bedroom.

Nick put his hand to his head. “How long have you been awake?”

Maison raised her hand, glancing at her watch. “Two, three hours.” She says then pointing her hand at the end table behind Nick. “There’s water and a aspirin on the table for you.”

Nick rubbed his face, breathing deeply and slowly started pulling his tie off. He was a miserable mess and overwhelmed by the fact that he didnt accident my choke to death in his sleep.

“Big night?” She asks, watching him drink the water.

“No.” He nods.

“Maria?” She asks focusing her attention back to the TV.

“Amanda.”

Slowly, she shifts her gaze back to him, confused. “The blonde chick?”

“Yeah.”

Maison chuckles, “Doing real great with the women in your life.” She smiles, taking a sip of her coffee. “What’d you fight about?”

“I think she wanted me… to hit her.” Nick says confused. He wasn’t sure if that was what Amanda was trying to do or if she was simply just angry. It could have been both for all he knew.

“Wait? She wanted you to hit her?” Maison chokes out, blinkly quickly.

“I-I dont know.” He says shaking his head.

“So?”

“What? Did I? Is that what you’re asking?” Nick raises his voice at her, puffing out his chest. “No, I didn’t.”

“That’s not what I was asking and you know that.” Maison objects annoyed. She puts her mug onto the coffee table. “So you what decided to drink besidehe while she tried to frame you for abuse?”

Nick cocks his head at her, “No, I left Amanda and went to another bar.”

Maison nods. The pair sat in silence, Maison returning her attention to the news and Nick laying back down and starring at the ceiling. Maison had only meet Amanda and the gang once or twice around the time Nick has first transferred to SVU. Right off the bat, Maison could tell Amanda was trouble and because Nick was the sweet, far to caring guy that he was he didn't see it.

It was Nick’s first month at the new precinct, he sat at his desk across from Olivia’s, starring at the pile of paperwork. Fin was slowly making his way to Nick’s desk.

“Hey, newbie. What do you say you join us for some drinks?” Nick meet Fin’s eyes and suddenly realized everyone else’s eyes where also on them as well.

“I.. Uh… I appreciate the offer but I’ve got plans with a friend.”

“Bring ‘em.”

“I dont know, she’s homicide. My old squad didnt want anyone who wasn’t narcotics around.” He says, shrugging his shoulder.s

Fin who was now sitting on Nick’s desk, chuckles looking over at his partner, John. “As long as she ain’t the rat squad, she’s alright in my book.” He then glances at his desk, starring at the paperwork he had yet to touch. “But compared to my paperowkr I got, I’ll take your homicide friend and the rat squad any day.”

Nick and Maison arrived at the bar, quickly ordering their drinks and heading over the group of svu detectives. Olivia was the first to introduce herself to the young detective, shortly after Fin and John followed.

“I thought Amanda was coming.” Nick said looking around.

“Running late.” Fin said smiling The detectives all squashed together at a table, sharing the horror stories of past cases mostly at the fault of Fin and Maison. The two trying to top one another. Half an hour later, Amanda walked through the door, smiling as she approached the table. It wasn’t a pretty scene, her hair was a mess, eyes glazed and kept blinking it was uncomfortable yet no one said a thing, Nick however could tell that Maison was starting too and casually stepped on her foot to prevent her from. She gritted her teeth, elbowing Nick in his side while the conversations continued.

As the hours ticked by the detectives made their way home, leaving Nick, Maison and Amanda sitting at a table together trying to make small talk. Maison would have opted to leave shortly after Fin did but Nick was her ride and if she’d taken a taxi, he would have been tailing her, so Maison sat leaning on the wall as she played with her drink watching Amanda pull her lower lip into her mouth. She was flirting… With Nick. Openly flirting. A small smile, a chuckle, a casual hand rested on his bicep and some corny comment asking if he’d been working out. It was pathetic. Nick knew what was going on, he wasn’t furthering it but he also wasn’t putting a stop to it.

“Hey, Nick. Don’t you think it’s time to head home? Zara’s probably not asleep yet, huh?” Maison asks, not actually wanting to go home but wanting to escape the drunken escapade of Amanda Rollins.

“God, what are you his mother?” Amanda retorted, chuckling.

Maison smiled, leaning her arms on the table. “No, just a detective that knows how to handle their liquor.”

“Sure, it’s not Nick you want to be able to handle?” Amanda remarked with a smirk.

Maison cocked her head with an annoyed expression on her face. “Excuse me?” She asked in a tone Nick knew far to well.

“Maison, you’re right. We should start heading home.” He said putting his arm on her shoulder trying to keep her in her seat. “Amanda, this was fun but I’ve got to get home to Zara.”

“Nick, come on. Dont listen to her.” She whined, trying to grab his arm.

“Maison, let’s go.” He said, forcefully pulling Maison out of the chair, making her follow him.

Inside of the car, Nick looked at Maison disapprovingly, mimicking an expression he’d give his own daughter. “How the hell is she a detective?” Maison asked avoiding his gaze.

“She’s a good cop, Maise.” Nick argued.

“Yeah, good at making cops look bad.” Nick didn’t respond.

The memory wasn’t a pleasant one for either of them, Maison nearly ripped Amanda’s head off and Amanda was trying to sleep with him. “I told you something was off about that girl.” She said finally breaking the silence and glancing over at him.

“She’s not off, she needs help.”

Maison stood up, grabbing her coffee. “Amado, you need help now. Drink your water and don’t sleep with her. You’ve got enough problems.” She said leaving the living room.