She feels like the wind was knocked out of her, a sharp pain shoots through her chest and can feel herself falling towards the ground.
There's shouting and rushing people all around her, and it's hazy for a few short moments. She groans, drawing a hand up to her sternum and feels a wet substance leak onto her fingers. Great. Blood.
Looking down, she can see that her shirt is torn and there's a seemingly gash going from her collarbone to the top of her cleavage. It's not very deep from what she can tell, but it hurts like hell. She presses her hand against it to stop the small amount of blood from coming out and looks around the room.
"Olivia!" She hears, and moments later, her youngest detective is rushing towards her, blue eyes wild with worry. "Lieutenant, are you okay?"
It takes a moment for the older woman to grasp her bearings, refocus on what's happening around her, but eventually she shakes her head, swallowing thickly in attempt to hide the stinging pain in her chest. "Y-yes. Where'd he go? He ran off- um.."
"Oh god, he stabbed you.." Amanda mutters, kneeling down to look at the bloodied blouse.
"Not stab, I think it's just a graze.. I don't know. Where is the perp?" Her eyes dart around the abandoned warehouse, seeing about a half-dozen uniforms rushing in from the other side of the room.
"Sonny got 'em. Ran into him right outside, he's in a car now." The concern is still deeply etched with worry as the younger woman scans Olivia's body once more, searching for any other wounds. "We should get you to a hospital.." She reaches over to grasp Olivia's wrist, pulling the other woman's hand away from her chest, and she visibly sighs. "It's not deep at all, but it needs to get cleaned up so that it doesn't get infected."
"I can do that in my office." The lieutenant replies hastily, completely dismissing any other suggestion. "A hospital isn't necessary."
"Okay, Lieu. lemme help you up." The blonde pulls Olivia up carefully, eyes drawn to the torn material of her emerald blouse; the cut is long, but thankfully shallow. There's a line of blood dripping down into the V of the older woman's cleavage. "I think your shirt's ruined." She comments dryly.
The brunette lets out a short chuckle as she dusts off her pants, wincing slightly at the abrupt movement. She diverts her eyes to one of the uniformed officers, muttering tersely, "I want him spending the weekend in lock up."
When they get back to the precinct, Olivia makes a bee-line for her office, shutting the door and closing off the blinds immediately. She sighs, looking down at the stained garment and the dried blood on her chest. She grabs a handful of napkins from her desk drawer and wets them with water from the five-gallon water dispenser, dabbing at the red streaks around the wound.
She's irritated with the perp, but mostly herself, for letting her guard down long enough to get cut. She grunts, feeling herself getting angrier as she tears at the long slash in her shirt to gain better access to the wound.
There's a knock at her door, pulling her from her thoughts, and she grumbles, calling out an annoyed "come in."
"Hey," Amanda slips in, closing the door behind her. She holds up a first-aid kit and a wad of gauze, smiling sheepishly. "Water and napkins may not do the trick." She jokes, pulling a smile and short laugh from her boss.
"You're right. Thank you.." Olivia holds her hand out, waiting for the younger woman to give her the kit.
"Is that the only shirt you have?" The blonde asks, eyes drawn to the shredded blouse, taking in the way it's now exposing the front of Olivia's black lace bra and tanned, ample cleavage. She can't help but stare at the long line of dried blood disappearing between the older woman's breasts. "I-I mean.. It looks pretty.. Trashed."
