"I know it ain't gonna be a walk in the park. It's SVU, ain't it?"
Dominick (but by all means, call him Sonny) Carisi stacked his share of case files on the table, lining them up and pushing them aside. Not only was New York having a backlog on rape kits, but pretty much every precinct in the continental US was, too. Sometimes when Sonny was alone at home, in the office, or on the way to pick up whatever snack he craved, he wondered why there were so many rapes in the first place; no meant no, right? But there were also those whackos that just raped to rape. He sighed.
"1,871 rapes occur in America, per day. That's four every three minutes. And only sixteen percent of these are reported to the police. "
Detective Amanda Rollins looked at Sonny when he said something she- the entire squad- had known since they graduated. She shook it off. She remembers a time when she was just as ambitious as he was: new to the precinct, fresh out of the academy, armed and ready to serve and protect, impress the captain… He had good intentions, all right. He just… He was the new kid. For those first few weeks, they always test the waters; see how everyone flows, how they react, how they work. He just wanted to impress. She remembered him mentioning all the past precincts he was at: each run, running shorter than the previous. She wondered just how long he'd last at SVU.
With the backlog running higher than ever, the squad couldn't do it alone. So, Sergeant Olivia Benson called in a favor. Assistant District Attorney, Rafael Barba, was called in to help review cases, give his professional opinion on ones deemed closed, follow up on standings, the usual. Just Sonny's luck.
The first time Rafael met Sonny, Sonny had, for reasons undetermined, decided to grow in the most hideous mustache he could conjure just to see if he could reinvent himself at yet another job. First impression: royally screwed. It wasn't until a few weeks later that maybe he needed to step his game up a bit to fit in. So he shaved it. Rollins was the first to comment on the change, and of course, the feedback was negative. He noticed that the detectives at SVU held themselves to a higher standard- and Rafael Barba held himself to an even higher standard. Never before at any precinct, any squad, and any office had Sonny seen a better-dressed crew or attorney. So he decided to once again, step up his game. He put pride in his appearance. He knew Rafael's case win record and he felt like if he ever wanted something like that, he'd need to take the time to get himself situated.
Yes, he admired Rafael. It bothered him that he was such a dick, though. He tried to impress him with his facts or make note of his education, but Rafael would always put him down. The man was sort of a hero to all the guys at his Fordham night school law classes. Sonny, now after meeting him, made note of his attire and figured that that certainly had something to do with his track record. So, in came the three piece suits. Nowhere near as nice as Rafael's but good enough for Sonny. He had to start somewhere.
The first day after the weekend he spent juggling between school papers and online fashion tips, he came into the office in his second best suit. You know, to set a standard for himself. Detective Nick Amaro smirked when he saw the reinvented Sonny and Detective Fin Tutuola gave a nod of approval. It didn't help when he dropped a bit of cream from his cannoli on his lapel though. That's when Rafael came in to the office.
He stopped and looked over Sonny: head to toe and back up again. Rafael had eyes like a hawk; they always pierced into one's soul and somehow managed send a signal to his brain to immediately create a snarky comment on one's insecurities. However, this time around, they didn't. The right side of Rafael's lips curved upward ever so slightly, probably around a millimeter, and then they pursed.
"Nice job, detective."
And then he walked away. Sonny knew it. He was in. Maybe not as much as he wanted to be, but it sure was a start. By his sixth week, Sonny was part of the team. The whole 'new kid' thing died down (Rollins and Benson were really the only two sticking to it. Women.) And soon enough he found himself at dinner with the guys after a hard two-day stint, joking about the Yankees.
Sonny looked up at Rafael. He walked in with Olivia, coming back from a court session wherein he had just been successfully intimidating the perp into confessing on the stand. Cat in the bag. Sonny had half a zeppole in his mouth when he stopped in front of his desk.
"You just couldn't wait until lunch, could you?"
"M'weak, counselor." Sonny chewed and smiled at him to which Rafael responded with a classic eye roll and walked to his temporary desk at a briefing table on the other side of the office.
"Rollins." Rafael called out after removing a few files of paperwork from his bag and slipping his coat over his chair. Is that what your supposed to do? Sonny took note and removed his own blazer and draped it over his chair. Amanda made her way to Rafael and he complimented her on a case well done. They both utilized their amazing senses of intimidation into cracking the suspect. Sonny figured it was the paisley pocket scarf that peered from Rafael's chest. Pure torture.
He furrowed his eyebrows before muttering, "what a weird fucking thought." He popped another zeppole into his mouth before getting to work on a case regarding the sister of a hardcore Mets fan. This had to be good.