Title: Confession
Author: A. Magiluna Stormwriter
Feedback address: stormwriter@shatterstorm.net
Date in Calendar: 31 December 2009
Fandom: Guiding Light
Pairing: Olivia/Natalia
Rating: R for language
Word Count: 2220
Date Written: 22 October 2009 & 31 December 2009
Summary: It was never my intention to cause trouble.
Spoilers: This takes place after Natalia returned, pregnant
Website: ShatterStorm Productions – Doggie Duo
Link to: http://bdkk.shatterstorm.net/
Archive: ShatterStorm Productions only…all others ask for permission & we'll see…
Advertisement: Part of the FSAC:DW09

Disclaimer: "Guiding Light," the characters, and situations depicted are the property of TeleNext Media, RDF Television, Procter & Gamble Productions, and CBS Productions. This piece of fan fiction was created for entertainment not monetary purposes. Previously unrecognized characters and places, and this story, are copyrighted to the author. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author. This site is in no way affiliated with "Guiding Light," CBS, or any representatives of the actors.

Author's Notes: Back in October, I had taken writing prompts from people. And then, there were the prompts that I got myself. This was one of my own prompts, which was "It was never my intention to cause trouble." I wasn't sure what the hell this story was going to be initially, but then Olivia spoke up, and all I could do was hang on and enjoy the ride. Obviously, my Olivia muse likes to be a bit of a drama queen, all the while wallowing in angst. I can get with that, really.

Shay says I need to write a sequel/companion piece from Natalia's POV. I will admit that I struggle with Natalia's POV, so that may not happen. Then again, I wasn't sure I'd ever write Otalia, and this is now my third story for the couple. So I'll never say never on a sequel…

Dedication: My muses, for always keeping me on my toes…

Beta: sHaYcH

By A. Magiluna Stormwriter

The late afternoon sun slants at just the wrong angle, making the car's driver squint behind inky dark sunglasses. She fidgets for long moments, fingers alternately drumming against the steering wheel and raking through her hair. She is torn between staying in the cool car, where anything her heart desires could come true, or stepping out into the harsh reality of the real world, where that same heart has lain torn and bleeding far too often of late.

Sighing heavily, Olivia closes her eyes, forehead resting against her knuckles where she grips the leather-covered wheel. For the first time in a very long time, she has willingly come to this place; it's not to appease her lover, rather to seek answers to a puzzle she simply cannot figure out.

A deep breath fortifies her courage and she steps out of the car to walk into the church, uncertainty and determination warring for dominance in her eyes.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned. It's been… Oh hell, there's only one sin I'm confessing to, so let's just leave it at that.

It was never my intention to cause trouble.

Sounds like a copout, doesn't it? Like I got caught making a huge mess and now I'm backpedaling to save my sorry ass. And maybe that's what it is. I don't know anymore. All I know is that I've hurt the woman I love… and I'm not sure I can fix it this time.

To be completely honest, I'm not sure I should be able to fix it. It's not like I'm not known for stirring up shit of one kind or another in this damned town. I've left a trail of sexual and emotional chaos and turmoil in my wake. And that was just from dating men -- practically every man in town it would seem. And no, I'm not planning to cut a similar swath through the women of Springfield. It's probably a safe bet that there are people worrying that I will though.

No, my heart, such as it is, is completely and utterly owned by one Natalia Rivera. Only a tiny part of me blames that on Gus and his heart anymore, if only because it makes Natalia sad.

I wish she was only sad today. I can fix sad. I can't fix angry as hell. I can't fix "I can't stand to look at you right now," either.

Okay, let me clarify that. I can fix those things with a guy. It's pretty easy. Guys are ruled by sex. I wield sex like a great Amazon warrior where men are concerned. It's different with Natalia though. She's not so easily swayed by a sultry look or a sly brush of my chest against her arm.

I'm quite sure you don't want to be hearing this confession, and I'll tell you right now that I am already doing my penance just by being here, so anything you have planned for me won't fly. Me and the Church aren't on the best of terms, you might say. I just needed a sounding board who doesn't know me. That's why I've driven so damned far away from home to do this stupid confession thing.

I just want to fix what I've done. It's all Blake's fault, anyway. She's the one that found me at Farley's and tried to get me to explain how to get a woman's attention. Why the hell she wanted to know that, I have no idea. But I was pleasantly knocking back a few beers with Josh and feeling a little pissed at being her personal Google for all things lesbian. Besides, she's with Frank, so why the hell does she need to know anyway?

So I slammed back my shot and just… kissed her to shut her up. Looking back now, she seemed to be into it. I mean really into it. And, y'know, I was kinda drunk and Blake's a really fucking good kisser. We won't touch the fact that Josh was just as drunk as I was, and encouraging us to boot.

That's when Natalia came in.

You know that point in the westerns where the bad guy walks into the saloon and everyone freezes? That's how it felt. Not that I'm saying Natalia's the bad guy either, so don't go putting those words into my mouth. So Natalia walked in, right? Josh fucking disappeared between one heartbeat and the next. Blake freaked out and left like Satan wanted to chew on her ass. And me? I couldn't do anything but sit there, staring at the barstool Blake had just been sitting in. There was no way in hell I could meet that hurt, angry, condemning look in Natalia's eyes.

I fucked up. I knew it then and I know it now. But she won't forgive me. Won't even talk to me. So I can't fucking apologize. And it wasn't entirely my damned fault! Hell, Blake won't even take my calls, and I'm just waiting for Frank to lay into me. Thank God, Rafe's gone to boot camp. I'm sure he's found out by now what's going on.

So is this some sort of divine retribution? Is this God's way of punishing me for… countless sins? Is this my damned mother's revenge from the grave? So much for that "sunshine and puppies" God that Natalia's always espoused. I'd known that was a PR spin the first time I heard it.

So what do I do now? I love her more than anyone I've never known. I don't want anyone else. We'll just work on forgetting that whole thing with Josh, too. We were both being morons and running away from our destinies. That doesn't count. Besides, Natalia knows about that and forgave me. This time? I'm really not so sure she'll forgive me. It's been three days and I'm still not allowed back into the house. Well, not when she's home anyway. It's been hell to have to live at the hotel without Natalia and Emma. And I absolutely hate that I've had to lie to my daughter about why I'm not at the farm. I never willingly lied to her before, but I just can't explain this whole nightmare to her.

Christ, I am so screwed right now. She's never going to forgive me, which means my daughter will never forgive me. If I'm not forgiven, my heart will well and truly be shattered for good. I will just lay down and let my heart stop. Natalia's already got custodial rights to Emma if something should happen to me or Phillip. She can raise Emma and Francesca as sisters, just like we were going to do anyway. It's not like Phillip would stop her from doing it; he adores Natalia because of how she is with Emma.

Wait. That's my phone. That's Natalia. I can't answer it. I don't want to be sitting in some confessional booth while my dearest love is telling me that it's over between us. I'll let it go to voicemail and listen to it later. Maybe while I'm driving back to Springfield, and if my car happens to go off the road in a fiery crash that kills me, so be it.

God! The last time I was this damned depressed, Natalia was the one who got me out of it. No, wait, it wasn't the last time; that's when she ran away. It wasn't when she decided to marry Frank, at my urging, no less. Could it really be going all the way back to the transplant and its aftermath? Wow! I think that's when I fell in love with her. All that anger and pain. I was so fucking toxic. I could barely muster the strength to take care of Emma. And Natalia just swooped in and pushed me until I had to do something to get her to just leave me alone. But by then, I didn't want her to leave me alone. I was so utterly turned around inside, and the only thing that seemed to make any sense really didn't make any sense at all. I was falling in love with this woman who both infuriated and enlivened me. But I couldn't…

Now she's sending text messages? No, it can wait, damn it! I've tried to talk to her for three days and she ignored every opportunity. Now she can wait until I'm good and ready to talk to her! She's not going to know what hit her.

First she ran off to play nun for several weeks while she decided what to do about her pregnancy. No note, no phone call, no nothing. Just "poof", disappeared without any consideration to what that would do to me, to us. I was devastated by her lack of trust, her lack of courage to tell me she needed space. And to know that Blake fucking Marler knew where she was and why she left, but couldn’t see fit to even bother attempting to explain it to me? There was very nearly blood on my hands over that. How is it that the town gossip finally learned to keep her fucking mouth shut at the exact time I needed her to spill the beans? She could see how being in the dark was killing me, but she couldn’t unbend enough to give me some hope? To let me know that I wasn’t the problem? Well fuck her! Then, she still had the gall to be pissed at me for not being all sweetness and light because she had fucking found a shred of integrity!

And now she's gone and thrown my life into complete and utter chaos again. The woman's got a fucking gift. But she's happily dating Frank and I'm alone. Maybe it's best this way, you know? I can go out to San Francisco, be with Ava for a while. Who knows? Maybe I'll find a lovely woman who won't know or care about any of my drama. We can go shack up in one of those lesbian communes, you know? I'll go totally natural and wild, completely reject modern life. Stop shaving my legs. Eat granola and wear Birkenstocks. Cut my hair into some ridiculous mullet or buzz top.

Oh, who am I kidding? Too much good in my life would kill me. My alcohol system would have too much blood in it, and we can't have that now, can we? Besides, I don’t think I'm cut out for the bohemian life, y'know?

I just… What am I supposed to do? I don't want to be with anyone else, don't want to love anyone else. But she's really got me confused and hurt right now, and I'm still not sure I can trust her at this point. What if she takes off again? Because if she does, I'm done. If she leaves me without any warning like that again, I can't give her any more chances. And I probably won't survive it. Let her Catholic guilt chew on that for a while.

No, that's not fair: not to her, not to the kids, not even to me. Natalia's will need to work to completely regain my trust again, but she'll always have my heart. I'd sooner die than lose her place in my life, and we both know it.

I suppose I should go home. I just can't ignore her messages. It's not unreasonable to give her a chance to explain herself, right? Besides, I've already wasted way too much time here. I'll probably never see you again, Father, and frankly, that's more than all right with me. But if you can put in a good word with your boss, that'd be fucking fantastic. I don't want to lose her, I love her too damned much, but I don't want to play this game either.

Wish me luck…

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

The squeaking of the hinges stops as the wooden door closes, followed shortly after by its mate opening to reveal the older priest witnessing the confessional. He glances around the sanctuary for a moment, attempting to find the woman whose story he's just heard, turning to stare at the main door as it opens. She stands there, bathed in sunlight for a moment, looking more radiant and determined than she sounded upon entering the confessional. With seeming nonchalance, he moves as quickly as he can down the aisle, but doesn't make it in time to catch her before she walks out the door.

Taking up the spot he's just seen her in, the priest watches as the brunette jauntily makes her way to her car where she pauses to type something into her phone before getting inside. The throaty roar of the engine as it revs into life reminds the priest of a life he gave up a long, long time ago, and the brief pang of longing is vaguely disconcerting. He returns the hesitant wave offered by the woman as she drives off toward her destiny.

"Godspeed, my child," he murmurs, "and give her a chance. Love should never be wasted over mistakes, no matter how big they may be."

Once her car is out of sight, the old priest sighs and moves back into the church to return to his duties.