A/N: This was written as part of the Barson Secret Santa Exchange (2018) on tumblr. I don't think you need to read 'The Rediscovered Country' to enjoy this but I'd love it if you did.
Thursday (12 days til Christmas...)
When Rafael Barba was growing up, his grandmother used to take him to the ice-skating rink in Bryant Park every Christmas. They'd bundle up and get the subway to Times Square, before making the short walk to the park, enjoying the sights and sounds of the season along the way. Once a young Rafael had exhausted himself skating, they would get hot chocolate and cookies from one of the two vendors who were set up next to the rink, to replenish his energy.
Over the years, the number of vendors had increased, and it was now a full-blown Christmas market, with over a hundred stalls selling one-of-a-kind gifts and crafts. The selection of food and drink wasn't bad either. From German sausages and gingerbread to sugared almonds and spiced wine, it was a wonderland of festive treats. The sounds, smells and sheer volume of people could be overwhelming though, with families, work groups, tourists and couples getting into the Christmas spirit.
The Bryant Park Christmas market had been a tradition he'd shared with his abuelita from almost as soon as he could walk until a few years before her death when she'd declared she just couldn't cope with the walking or the crowds anymore. He hadn't been since then; it was hard to get into the Christmas spirit when you were alone. But he wasn't alone anymore. Now he had a family. And he planned on sharing the magic of the Christmas market with his girlfriend and her – no, their – son.
It had been a hard year with lots of trials, but luckily, they'd come out the other side stronger, closer than before. After being tried for mercifully ending the life of terminally ill baby, Drew Householder, Rafael had resigned from the DA's office and left New York to hide out in Miami and put his life back together. He'd almost lost Olivia in the process – not wanting to bring her down with him – but, thankfully, she'd fought for him; for them. They'd moved forward with their relationship, despite the physical distance between them, until he'd finally returned to the city for Noah's birthday back in July.
He'd moved in with them immediately, much to the delight of Noah – who had been calling Rafael 'Dad' since visiting him on the boat over Father's Day – but it had soon become clear that the two-bedroom apartment wasn't going to be a feasible, long-term option for them. So, they'd bought a three-bedroom brownstone, with a small yard, just to the north of Manhattan. Luckily, the previous owners were moving into an empty house, so the buying process had been quick, and they'd been able to get moved in and settled before Christmas, although Thanksgiving had come and gone in a blur of bubble wrap and packing boxes, with a late dinner at Lucia's. The stress was worth it though, to be able to spend their first Christmas together as a family in their new home.
Rafael climbed the stairs to their bedroom and knocked lightly on the door to the en-suite.
"You've not fallen asleep in there have you?" he asked through the door.
There was a light chuckle from the other side. "Not quite, no."
He opened the door a crack and peered around. She was reclined in the bath, body buried beneath a blanket of bubbles, only her head visible. "Mind if I join you?"
"Not at all, but you're not getting in here. I've worked too many hours this week to even think about sharing."
It was his turn to laugh as he pushed the door open fully. "Not even when I'm bearing gifts?"
She opened her eyes and rolled her head to the side to look at him. He was leaning nonchalantly against the door frame, dressed in jeans and an open-necked black shirt, holding a glass of scotch for him and a glass of Cabernet for her.
She lifted an arm out of the bubbles. "Are my chances of getting that wine dependent on my answer?"
"I'm not that cruel." He pushed off the door frame and stepped fully into the bathroom. As he approached the bath and handed her the glass of wine, he noticed – now she was free of make-up – just how much of a toll the last week had taken on her and began to reconsider their plans for the next evening.
Christmas was always a busy time for SVU. The number of parties and the amount of alcohol consumed made December in Manhattan a hotbed of sexual assault. And this year was no exception. She'd worked almost sixty hours this week and that, combined with parenting a boisterous six-year-old who was becoming increasingly excited about Christmas, meant she was almost dead on her feet.
"Look, if you want to give tomorrow night a miss, I don't mind." It was a little white lie, he'd been looking forward to taking Liv and Noah to the Christmas Markets and sharing with them some of the joy he'd shared with his Abuelita. However, he cared about Olivia's wellbeing more.
"I'll be okay," she replied, taking a sip of her wine. "I know how important it is to you."
Rafael perched on the edge of the bath, near Olivia's head. His hand went to her hair, his fingers carding through her chestnut locks.
"I know," he told her, his voice low, "but you've had a tough week and I care more about you than some Christmas tradition. We've got our whole lives to make Christmas memories together." His fingers brushed the skin at the base of her neck and she let out a small, groan of approval, closing her eyes to continue enjoying his ministrations. "Or," he continued, "I could take Noah and you could have a quiet night to yourself."
"As tempting as that is… no. This is our first Christmas together, I want to go with you and Noah."
"Okay," Rafael agreed, returning his hand to her head and dragging his nails gently across her scalp. He recognised that tone. She was determined in her plan and nothing would be able to dissuade her. Which, if he was honest, warmed his heart. He'd just have to do his best to make the evening as fun, easy and stress-free as possible for her.