Author's Note: Part of my "Spaces In Between" series; see my profile for the list of the other stories in this series.

Fin stood in front of the bathroom mirror, frowning as he struggled to knot his tie. For some reason he couldn't get it to look right to his eyes, and the more he fussed with it the more frustrated he became.

"The fuck," he cursed as another attempt ended up lopsided and too loose. He was almost ready to rip it off and forgo wearing a tie completely. Still, he didn't want to appear disrespectful to the judge and jury.

"Turn around, let me do it."

Fin sighed and did as John ordered, even as he protested, "I can fix my own damn tie."

"Yes, I know. And a fine job you were doing of it just now."

On any other day that sarcasm would have earned John an equally snarky comeback. This morning Fin simply wasn't up for it. "Guess I'm a little out of practice," he said, admitting to the obvious. Easier to confess to that then to feeling anxious about court today.

For his part, John was already dressed for work, as sharply put-together as always. "A criminal shame, too, considering how well you wear a suit. Makes me nostalgic for the days when we first started working together. You never wore less than a three-piece."

"Couldn't let my partner show me up by dressing better than me."

"And here I thought you did it to catch my eye." John winked and gave Fin an amorous look that broke his sour mood, and managed to coax a reluctant smile in response. He, too, remembered those times well. Considering his current situation he'd been mulling over his early days at SVU quite a bit lately.

Because it had to figure, in a ways-the-universe-will-screw-you-over fashion, that after sixteen years one of his first cases as primary investigator at SVU would have to come back and bite him in the ass.

Sixteen years ago…he had barely started to find his place in the unit, and with his new partner. They had only begun to move forward from conflicting coworkers to potential friends. The possibility of anything beyond that hadn't even crossed Fin's mind.

John had been busy tying up a case from the previous year, one he had worked with Stabler, when Melanie Harper had first stepped into the precinct to report her rape. Fin had been the only free detective that day and so the case had become his to lead.

He'd tried his best to put in practice everything he'd learned from his partner about the sensitive and respectful treatment of rape victims. To close this case neatly and efficiently had been his aim—not only to prove to his new coworkers he could do it, but because he'd wanted to do so for Melanie. His heart had gone out to the young woman, all the time he'd spent talking with her, hearing her story, learning about her life before the assault. He'd seen and responded to how determined she'd been to move forward, for her own peace of mind and also for her young daughter, Ashley.

Ashley, who was now dead, killed by the man who had been innocent yet convicted of her mother's rape. It seemed a bitter and terrible price to pay for the mistake they had all made years ago.

Fin had done everything by the book. He'd been nothing short of one hundred percent certain that Sean Roberts had to be good for the crime. Melanie had I. him in a line-up. Sean had no alibi for the night in question. Other witnesses had sworn they'd seen him in the vicinity. How, then, was it Fin's problem that Cabot hadn't pressed the crime lab on processing the rape kit? She'd been convinced herself they had enough evidence to bring the case to trial without it.

"It's not your fault when you did your job. Roberts' initial defense failed him by not demanding that the evidence get processed. And as such the system failed both Melanie and Sean," John had insisted to Fin when the news of Roberts' release had first shocked him—and the messenger had served him legal papers. "This is the way these lawsuits work, scorched earth tactics. Sue everyone and anyone involved or who might be to blame. Somebody will eventually step forward to make the settlement. The city will take care of this as long as you cooperate with their attorneys. Try not to take it personally."

"Easy for you to say when your name ain't on the defendant's list."

But the lawsuit was still a distant threat at the moment, being negotiated and now put on hold until Roberts' current criminal charges were put to rest—one way or another. And after days of waiting outside the courtroom, Barba had finally realized he had to call on Fin to testify if he was going to have a chance at convicting Sean of Ashley's rape and murder. Fin felt a small degree of vindication at getting to defend himself on the stand… But in that case, why was he feeling so anxious that he couldn't knot his own stupid tie?

John's fingers worked their well-practiced magic on the silk fabric. Eventually took a step back, took in his handiwork and nodded in satisfaction. "All right, how's that?"

Fin glanced back at the mirror, then sighed in slight relief at conquering that hurdle for the day. "Thanks. You're sure about this jacket, though?"

"Absolutely. You're always stunning in blue. Besides, it's a good psychological choice. Blue is the color of confidence, calm, and authority. You want the jury to believe you, to trust in you."

"And a color's gonna do all that?"

John shrugged. "It can't hurt. Check out how Barba dresses for court."

"Point taken."

"Hey." Fin turned back to his husband. John put his hands on Fin's shoulders and made sure he had Fin's full attention, and only then did he place a determined kiss on his lips. "You're going to do fine today. You wanted this, remember? A chance to speak up for yourself because you did nothing wrong, not now and not sixteen years ago."

"I know."

"So don't forget that when you walk into the courtroom today."

"I won't."

"Good. Also don't forget that when you get home tonight I plan on enjoying getting you out of this suit. So don't even consider changing until I get my chance."

Fin smirked. "How about I do you one better. Since I'm downtown at court all day, how 'bout I call you when it's done. We can go out somewhere nice for dinner before heading home." He'd been so tied up with work and related stress these past couple weeks, he felt bad for not having much time nor energy to devote to each other.

"You're on. Now let's get going, don't want you to be late for court."

John left the bathroom and Fin called after him, "Right behind you." He just wanted to give himself a final once-over heading out.

He looked fine. He felt fine about what he had to do—and what he'd done years ago. Now he had to go out there and show as much to the rest of the world. Then, he could get back to living his life in the present day, instead of dwelling on the distant past.