This is going to be a collection of Benson/Barba platonic and not-so-platonic one-shots (maybe some Rollins/Carisi later on). I accept (and LOVE) prompts as well. I'll try to update with new stuff as often as I can... and reviews really do make my world go 'round. This first one is pretty fluffy, but there will probably some darker/angsty ones later.

Prompt: "Olivia. This is so not funny."

Barba had come into her office to discuss an issue with a forensics report. He had carved fifteen minutes out of his schedule to visit the SVU Lieutenant: ten minutes to discuss the case and five minutes of time for their daily conversations.

However, the ADA had not accounted for Noah Benson's baby-sitter to call in sick. Olivia had found no other alternative than to declare an unofficial take-your-kid-to-work day. The child had been painting a picture for his mother when Barba walked in. At some point, Noah had switched from painting with his brush to painting with his fingers.

This was a piece of information that the toddler did not disclose to the always impeccably dressed attorney before pleading the man to lift him up. In fact, Rafael was not aware that Noah had been painting at all until he after he had set the child down and heard a suppressed laugh escape his mother.

"Mind sharing the joke with the room, Lieutenant?" She tried to speak, but she had to cover her mouth to prevent another laugh from escaping.

Barba stood there, confused, until a pale Noah looked up at him. "Uh oh," he whispered.

Rafael chose this time to follow the child's eyes to his crisp suit and very nearly had an aneurysm. Two very colorful sets of fingerprints could be seen on either side of Barba's suspenders.

"Olivia. This is so not funny." He had already begun shedding his suit jacket, but the paint had gotten all over his dress shirt as well. "Do you know how much this suit costs?"

At that, Olivia sobered up.

"Oh God, I am so sorry. I'll pay you for the suit, I swear. Just... please tell me you got it at Goodwill or something?" Damn Noah's obsession with paint and Barba's obsession with ridiculously expensive clothing. She was a police officer, for Christ's sake, she cannot afford to replace Armani.

In her haste to find a solution to the problem, she grabs some napkins with varying restaurant logos (she really needs to start cooking more, she thinks) and tries to blot off the paint. The result is even worse.

"Great. Now it's everywhere," he says.

"Oh God Rafael, I didn't mean to ruin your suit, but really, maybe this is a sign to start shopping at Costco." Her eyes are still downcast, trying even harder to get the paint to come out.

"Liv, stop," he pleads.

"No - I mean I think I'm really starting to make progress - "

"Liv," this time his voice has an air of finality to it, and she finally obliges, but she refuses to look up at him. Instead, her eyes are trained on what looks like rainbow vomit on her straight-faced ADA's expensive shirt.

He gently tips her head up to look at him, "I was kidding, Olivia. I can get a new shirt - I have been putting a lot of overtime in lately." He shakes his head and smiles weakly at her.

"I feel so bad though."

"Hey Noah, buddy, come here," Barba outstretches his arms, inviting the toddler. He promptly leaps into the ADA's hands and proceeds to get even more paint on the thoroughly soiled shirt.

"See Liv, it's fine." She doesn't believe him. A devilish grin crosses his face as he gets an idea.

"Noah, I think your mom needs a hug." Rafael and his three-year-old compadre engulf the startled woman. After a couple seconds he steps back, marveling at his creation.

Some of the color from his shirt and the leftover paint from Noah's hands has transferred onto Olivia's white blouse. Her apologetic frown has morphed into a glare.

"This is not funny," she says, but Barba and Noah start laughing anyway. He shares a high-five with the child anyway.

"What's the matter, Liv? Just go pick up a new one at Costco on your way home." His smirk kind of makes her want to smack him, but she refrains because his genuine smile has her grinning. She hardly ever sees the stoic ADA truly happy.

"Whatever. I wear it better," she remarks, placing her hands on her hips.

"There's no doubt about that," he replies, still smiling. She refuses to blush, but her face heats up.

Barba checks his watch. "Lieutenant, as much as I've enjoyed ruining my favorite shirt, I have arraignment in half an hour, and I need to get changed."

She smiles. "Walk you out?"

The two emerge from her office covered in paint and grinning with Noah clinging to Barba's suspenders.

Rollins looks over at Fin, eyebrow raised. "What do you think that's all about?"

Fin looks up and then back at his work. "I've learned long ago to mind my own damn business when it comes to Liv," he says, pausing. "But something tells me I'm going to need to threaten that tiny little Assistant-District-Asshole later."

End.

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