Hello lovely readers. This is the story of Seth and Olivia.

It's a companion fic to Wicked Games, a Jake and Nessie story.

You don't have to have read that to enjoy this, although it may help you fill in some gaps down the road. Thank you to all of you who followed me here from there. I've been really excited to get this fic started. I originally thought it would be about 5-10 chapters, but it looks like it's going to be a full length fic.

* A word of warning to readers who may be sensitive to the subject: there will be a chapter containing a description of date rape in this fic. It won't be vulgar, and I promise not to exploit the topic. I'll put a warning at the top of the chapter when the time comes, for those who would prefer to skip it.

So, without further ado, I give you our first look at Olivia.

SM owns Twilight. Olivia's all mine.

Chapter 1 – Sinking & Floating

Olivia POV

I sighed lightly as I reached up to stock the last few cartons of cigarettes on the shelf.

Why do I always get stuck stocking the top shelves, when I'm the shortest one working here? I asked myself for what seemed like the millionth time. I reached up, standing on my toes, placing a pack on the edge of the top shelf, the only part I could reach, before bending down to get another one and placing it on the shelf directly in front of the first one. I pushed it lightly and felt and heard the two packs slide back, without falling over.

Good, I thought, two down..., I glanced at the box on the floor next to me and sighed again... and about twenty more to go.

I silently acknowledged that this had been a long afternoon. It had been slow all morning too. I was working a double today at De Hart's Auke Bay store. It was a convenience store and deli of sorts only about a minute off the University of Alaska Southeast campus. I was working the double as a favour to my friend Amber, who had been asked out on a date and needed me to cover for her. In exchange she was meeting with me to study for calculus. Amber was great in math, and I... wasn't. Well, not anymore anyway. I knew I would get it if I could just catch up... but I missed a lot of school the last couple of years, and although I had good grades and my high school teachers thought I would catch up without a problem, I was still struggling in math. That's why I was taking the summer course. It was the second to last week of August and I was getting ready for my calculus exam next week. I was taking the class so I could handle my first year math course that was mandatory in my undeclared major program at UAS.

Amber and I were supposed to meet at Spikes, the cafe on campus, after her shift ended tonight. We were still going to meet, but now I would be coming from work and she would be coming from her date with Matt... or was it Mark? With Amber it was hard to remember. She was gorgeous, and she knew it. Guys flocked to her... and she loved every second of it. She had gone on a lot of dates in the month and a half that I'd known her.

I've always been a bit envious of her. She was always so confident and handled herself so well around guys... whereas I was really shy and awkward, at best. Sometimes I wished I could be a little more like her, and be able to talk, laugh and hang out with guys without clamming up, but I knew I had a long way to go before I could do that. I frowned and felt my eyebrows crease together a bit as I heard my mom's words from almost two months ago echo though the back of my mind.

It's time to move on Olivia, she said quietly but seriously, your father is right. You can't hide behind art and your hair forever.

I knew she was right, and that my dad had a point. And if I was being completely honest with myself, I knew I wanted to try. It was just really hard for me. I had always been shy and kind of introverted. Okay, I was a lot introverted. And these past few years, after...it ... I hardly spoke to anyone aside from my mom and dad, and the few acquaintances I met at my new school after I transferred there in the middle of my junior year. But I just couldn't find it in me to open up, and talk to anyone. I had a lot of trouble trusting people. I hadn't kept in touch with my girlfriends back at my old school after I transferred. None of them knew what had happened, or why my family suddenly moved an hour away to another school district mid-year. I didn't want to talk about it either. I was afraid of what they would want to know, and I didn't like thinking about it. I was also afraid of what they would think. Would they judge me for it? Would they say that it was my fault? And there was always the small voice at the back of my mind that wondered if maybe he was right about me...

I heard the bell above the door chime and got up from my squatted position behind the counter to greet the new customer and saw only a mop of short dark hair bob up and down a bit over the shelves as a man walked from the door, straight to the back of the store. I remembered thinking that he must have been quite tall for his head to be seen above the six foot tall shelves, even if I was standing on a raised platform behind the cash counter.

He seemed to be taking his time looking at the bread, so I turned and bent over to pick up the last five or six packs of cigarettes out of the box. I just had a few more to go, and then I would be done. I had to start getting ready to close up anyway. We were only open for another twenty minutes. I was glad that we closed at five in the evening during the summer. Jack, the owner, said that most of the store's business came from the university students, so summer months were slow, and we could close earlier. I was tired, and just wanted to curl up in a booth at Spikes with a hot peppermint tea and a bagel and study for my final, then head back to my dorm and get some sleep before I had to go to class in the morning.

I heard a booming car stereo turn off and the door jingle again just as I straightened up and began turning toward the new customer in the store. I had spun about half way toward the door, with a few packs of cigarettes in both of my hands, when I heard a voice that made me freeze in my tracks.

"I know, I got a new sub woofer and amp for my birthday. The sound is incredible."

I swallowed – hard. I felt my hands begin to shake and dropped the cigarettes.

Travis.

What is he doing here? I asked myself frantically.

Oh... oh no. I felt my stomach drop with dread.

What if he goes to UAS too? I thought he was supposed to go to down south to school for some kind of football scholarship?

"Livvy?" I heard him say incredulously.

My skin crawled a bit as I heard him use the familiar short form of my name. My breaths started coming in short, shallow pants. If I wasn't careful I was going to make a spectacle of myself in front of him, and his friend. I hated any kind of attention. And I certainly didn't want any from him. I wanted him gone... or I wanted to be gone. I just needed to be away from him, as quickly as possible. But I was stuck there, behind the counter at work, and I couldn't just leave, even if I wanted to, or in this case... if I needed to. And I really needed to. I hadn't seen him since that day. And I didn't want to see him. Ever.

His light chuckle at my obvious distress snapped me out of it somewhat.

OK, just breathe. Nice slow breaths. I forced myself to inhale and exhale deeply twice, and it helped, even if they were shaky breaths, and then made myself turn in their direction. He was with one other guy and they were standing at the counter with two packs of gum and a lighter.

Just don't look up. Don't look at their eyes, and they'll ignore you and walk away, I told myself. It was the same advice I gave myself any time a guy got too close or said something to make me feel uncomfortable... which was often.

"Still kinda quiet, huh?" he said and chuckled at me again. His friend joined in this time, obviously amused.

I nodded and robotically grabbed their items off of the counter and began scanning them quickly. I was having a hard time with the shaking. It hadn't been this bad since the few months after that day. It always happened when I was scared back then, and was usually followed by a panic attack or some other equally embarrassing form of freaking out.

I fumbled twice with the little yellow lighter, and dropped it once.

"I need a pack of Winston's, too," he said and reached for his wallet.

Ok, just grab the cigarettes, scan them, take his money and he's gone. You can do this. Just another minute or so... and then he'll leave - and then you can freak out.

I turned on unsteady legs toward the wall of cigarettes behind me and groaned inwardly. The Winston's were on the top shelf, next to the Marlboro's. They would not be easy for me to reach while I was shaking like a leaf and my legs felt like they were going to give out from under me.

I just want him to go. I gulped and blinked back against the sting of the tears that were beginning to form in my eyes.

Just - just reach up and grab the pack, ring it in, and he's gone, Olivia... just another minute, I told myself again.

I stood on my toes and stretched up high towards the pack of Winston's. I managed to tap the edge of it with my fingertip, turning it a bit toward me so that I could pinch it between my thumb and my index finger to pick it up.

"Is that a tattoo I see?" he asked, shock evident in his voice.

I jumped, almost dropping the pack of cigarettes, and then quickly righted myself. I tugged down furiously on my black shirt, trying desperately to cover up the small amount of space that must have been uncovered between my jeans and my shirt when I reached for the pack of cigarettes.

I felt the tears well up again and choked them back, turning toward the register to quickly scan the pack of cigarettes without responding to his comment.

That tattoo was important to me, and I would not acknowledge it in front of him. I didn't even want to think about it in front of him – especially because of the meaning behind it. I suddenly felt angry that he even had the opportunity to know that it was there.

"I always knew you had a wild streak in you," he said, and then chuckled again before grabbing a twenty out of his pocket and throwing it on the counter.

I stood, frozen again, staring at the twenty dollar bill as his words crashed around me like the sound of cymbals or a loud gong in a silent room. The same words, spoken in haste and lust and anger three years ago, by the same man, came flying back at me, and just like that I was sinking into the past.

"C'mon Livvy, I know you're into it," he said as I shook my head 'no'. He shoved my shirt up and palmed my breast, before looking at me and licking his lips.

"Fuck, sheer red lace. I always knew you had a wild streak in you."

I heard a throat clear from the other side of the counter and a little bit to the left. I shook my head, snapping back to reality, as a masculine, smooth and peaceful voice spoke.

"Hey, is that your car out there?" the voice said to Travis and his friend.

"Yeah," Travis answered.

"Well, your windows are down, and it's starting to rain," the voice said politely.

"Shit. We should go. Keep the change, and uh... nice seeing you again Livvy," Travis said hurriedly as he and his friend grabbed their stuff and made a hasty exit to the car.

I stood still as stone and watched as they rolled their windows up, started the car and left.

I was still standing there a minute later, staring at the empty parking lot trying my best to even out my breaths and keep the tears at bay.

"Hey," the smooth and peaceful male voice said quietly, "um, are you ok?"

I lowered my head and closed my eyes tightly in humiliation. I had just freaked out and completely clammed up in front of this guy. Who was I kidding? I was still freaking out.

I stared at the white linoleum beneath my feet and the packs of cigarettes that I had dropped on the floor, inhaling deeply. I couldn't answer him. I needed a few minutes to get myself together, so I simply shook my head 'no' and continued to stare at the floor.

This guy must think I'm such a freak. I almost wish he would just leave... but what if they decide they want their change and they come back? No – I don't want to be alone if they come back. At least if he was here, I wouldn't be by myself.

"Okay," he said simply.

I was startled by the calm acceptance in his tone. He didn't seem to be bothered by my mild freak out at all... at least not yet. Most people get a bit frantic themselves and flutter around trying to do things for you when they realize that you're on the verge of having a panic attack. This kind and quiet acknowledgement was refreshing.

I breathed deeply in and out a few more times before I felt my limbs unlock and knew that my body could move again. I slowly reached for the twenty on the counter and picked it up with my still shaking hand, before trying to hit the button to open the register so I could place it inside.

I was still shaking so badly that I couldn't hit the right button though. I tried, three times, and kept hitting the button above, below or beside it.

"What's your name?" he asked softly.

I swallowed and took a deep breath. His voice was soothing and his tone simply curious. I didn't usually tell strange guys my name, but this one was standing there, unknowingly protecting me from the one person in the world I truly feared, and watching me have a bit of a meltdown. I couldn't see any reason not to give it to him at that point.

I took another deep breath, trying to make my voice as even and normal as possible and spoke.

"Olivia," I said quietly.

I saw a large, deep golden brown coloured hand and a strong but lean forearm reach slowly and non-threateningly across the counter.

I eyed it warily for a few seconds, and then realized that I wanted to shake this man's hand. He saved me unknowingly by getting Travis and his friend out of the store, and was here, keeping me calm about the fact that they might come back. The least I could do to thank him was shake his hand.

I reached out my hand, immediately noticing the contrast between my very pale, almost white skin and his. As he reached toward me I also noticed how large his hands were, easily double the size of mine, with long, lean fingers. As our hands made contact I realized that he was warm, the opposite to my typically cold skin. I also felt an amazing and unexplainable feeling of peacefulness, and security. Maybe I imagined it, because of the warmth.

I cocked my head to the side and immediately realized that I wanted to see his face. I hadn't felt this comfortable meeting another person, well, ever.

I was nervous about looking at him, because, as I mentioned before, I typically don't look people, especially men, in the eye when I'm nervous. But this was different. He wasn't the one making me feel nervous. He was making me feel safe.

So, I allowed my eyes to travel slowly up his forearm to his lean, but muscular bicep, over the green sleeve of his t shirt, past his collar and up to his face.

He had a slightly square jaw, with a small dimple on his chin, full lips, a small, somewhat flattened nose, wide cheekbones, that were somehow soft and masculine looking at the same time, an average sized forehead and black hair, with just a little bit of length that had been styled a bit with gel to keep it off of his face. But all of those things were really secondary. His eyes were what I noticed most. He had the kindest, most sincere and honest looking dark brown eyes I had ever seen. They were so dark they were almost black, and it was like I could stare into them and read his every intention. Just minutes ago I had been lost in my painful past, and now I was floating in the gaze of the stranger in front of me.

I blinked twice, startled by the intensity of my reaction to him. He was handsome, obviously so, but I wasn't usually one to stare. Just as I realized that and was going to remove my hand from his and stop embarrassing myself so I could get back to work, a slow and brilliant smile spread across his face.

"Hi," he said quietly, his eyes now dancing with some kind of emotion I couldn't identify. I wondered briefly why he wasn't bothered by my odd behaviour or my impolite staring. I decided that he must really be a kind person if he could look past all of that and still be standing there, smiling at me.

I tentatively lifted the corners of my mouth in a small smile back at him and watched in amazement as his grew even larger before he spoke again.

"I'm Seth."