chaptered fic; only a heartbeat away 07 (i'm not holding back tonight)
fandom: law & order svu
pairing: rafael barba/olivia benson
word count: 5559 words
note: a bodyguard-ish AU inspired by a tweet liked by Mariska and the #BarbaForPrez hashtag. Title of fic and chapter titles taken/adapted from Vixens' Only a Heartbeat Away.
begin
For a moment, Barba froze, staring at Olivia lying motionlessly on the floor. He felt his mouth turning as dry as sawdust as images of Eddie – Eddie, body riddled with bullets – raced through his head. He remembered running towards his friend, only to be swept back by his security.
He remembered not being able to say goodbye.
But not this time, he thought, almost wildly. Not Olivia. He would not say goodbye; he refused to. Memories of his time with Olivia crowded through his head – the first time he saw her, the exasperated look that she was so fond of giving him, their bantering, their private talks, their morning jogs. The first time she called him Rafael. Her smile, her laughter. The way she had looked at him that night in China.
His feet found life, and he lunged towards Olivia, but Amaro held him back.
"Mr. President, we must get you to safety," his voice was firm and his grip was iron strong, but Barba eased off his arm forcefully, not even listening to him.
"Olivia!" He pushed through the huddle of Secret Service agents, to see Carisi pressing his hand over the gunshot wound at the side of her stomach. Blood pumped through his fingers, and he increased the pressure.
"Come on, Benson. Hang in there," Carisi mumbled under his breath. "You gotta hang in there."
Sirens sounded in the distance, and a dozen Secret Service Agents dragged a raving Muñoz away, but Barba barely noticed. His attention was on her, and he dropped to his knees next to her, his head whirling. Olivia's face was almost white, a fine sheen of sweat evident on her skin. The rise and fall of her chest told him that she was still alive, and he felt relief coursing through him. He reached out, wanting to brush her hair out of her face, but he caught himself at the last moment, withdrawing his hand.
"President Barba." He felt a hand on his shoulder. "Sir, please. You have to come with us now. We need to secure you." He looked up to see Amaro's stoic face, but he did not miss the slight twitch under his eye when his gaze drifted to Olivia on the floor.
Paramedics were pushing through now, as the Secret Service Agents parted way for the medical professionals. One of them took over from Carisi, effectively packing the wound in hemostatic gauze. Another one checked Olivia's vitals, holding her wrist. She shook her head slightly and looked at her partner.
"Heartbeat's dropping, and it's erratic. We have to get her to hospital, stat."
They strapped her to a stretcher, and placed an oxygen mask over her face. As they moved out, Carisi ran after them, intending to accompany his boss to the hospital. Barba watched as the paramedics and Olivia disappeared from his sight.
"Sir," Amaro said again, trying to get the President's attention.
He turned to the Secret Service Agent. "Prepare a car for me, Amaro. I'm going to the hospital."
"Mr. President, I don't…" he stopped when he looked at Barba's face. His face was pale, but his gaze was steely and determined. Amaro had worked long enough for him to recognise that look for what it was. Nothing was going to change his mind, and one should not even bother trying.
He nodded, and touched his earpiece, requesting for a car. He then tried to recollect his thoughts, focusing on his training, thinking about what Olivia would do in this situation, and then to his best ability, he issued all the necessary orders to the rest of the agents.
Ten minutes later, Barba was speeding towards the hospital, accompanied by Amaro and two other agents, in addition to another dozen agents following behind in different cars.
The cars pulled up to the Emergency Department of the hospital, and Barba made a move to exit the car as soon as it rolled to a stop.
"President Barba, I'm sorry, but please wait. You know what we need to do." Amaro said firmly, and then nodded to the other two agents.
Barba tapped his fingers against his thigh impatiently, waiting for the agents to perform the compulsory security sweep. After what seemed like an eternity, he was escorted into the hospital.
He entered the hospital, flanked by the agents, and he barely noticed the wide-eyed stares and the whispers as he strode down the hallway towards the operating theatre. He ignored all of it, and he supposed that it was un-President like and completely irresponsible of him, but at the moment, there was only one person on his mind.
He reached the operating theatre, where several agents were gathered, along with Amanda and Tucker. Carisi was slumped against the wall near to the theatre doors, the cuffs of his shirt still stained with blood.
"President Barba," Tucker approached him, Amanda close behind him. "You really shouldn't be here."
"I decide where I want to be, Tucker," Barba returned sharply. "You stopped me from going to the hospital after Eddie was shot. I hardly want the same situation to repeat itself, as I happen to think that it is essential for me to see to Deputy Director Benson, who was injured because of me."
"Sir," Amanda interjected. "We've managed to contain the press so far. Strict orders have been given, not one member of the media will be allowed within a radius of the hospital. But I will need to prepare the press statement…"
"Rollins," he said, holding up his hand. "Right now, frankly, I am in no frame of mind to strategise. I trust you to do your job. Confer with the rest of the staff, and then brief me on what I need to do."
"Copy that, Sir," she affirmed, all too aware of the enormous task she had in front of her. This was the third attempt on the President's life in a little more than six months, only made better (if one could say that) that it was all by the same person with a personal vendetta, instead of three different people with different reasons. The public relations and press management would then be an even bigger nightmare.
Barba took a seat at one of the waiting chairs, crossing his legs and leaning back as he waited. Silence descended upon the entire group as everyone waited. Even Tucker refrained himself from talking. Everyone could sense the tension radiating off the President, even if they did not quite know why.
"Mr. President," one of the emergency room doctors approached him in a timid manner, and stopped short as two agents stepped forward in a protective stance. "Sir, you have a bruise at your temple and you should get that attended to."
He automatically raised his hand to the spot where Muñoz had hit him with the gun, and felt a sharp stab of pain. He was surprised that he hadn't felt any pain before this.
He mustered a brief smile for the doctor. "If you could help me? Please?"
She nodded quickly, and the agents took a step back as she sat down hesitantly on the chair beside Barba. A nurse came over with a tray of supplies, and he winced as she pressed an ice pack onto his bruise. The doctor pressed her fingers lightly against his temple, and then she carefully taped a piece of gauze over the bruise.
"Sir, it doesn't look serious, but I suggest that you ice it every few hours, just to reduce the swelling."
He nodded his assent, and thanked her and the nurse, and they quickly took their leave, more than just a little intimidated by the President and all the security surrounding him.
Time ticked by as everyone waited. Agents drifted in and out, murmuring on their phones or composing emails, as they needed to deal with the aftermath of the Muñoz standoff.
Finally, the doors to the operating theatre swung open, and the surgeon, dressed in scrubs, came out. He seemed taken back by the crowd of black suited men and women, and then his eyes widened considerably as they rested on Barba, who was getting to his feet.
To his credit, he kept an unperturbed demeanour. "Family of Olivia Benson?"
"They're on their way but you can talk to me," Tucker walked up to the surgeon, briefly flashing his identification badge. "I am her direct commander."
"She's the head of my security detail. If I may, I would like to know her condition as of now," Barba spoke up.
The surgeon nodded crisply. "It was a clean bullet wound to her abdomen, but unfortunately the bullet grazed a major artery, so Ms. Benson lost a lot of blood. We managed to repair the artery, and Ms. Benson has been stabilised, but she's still unconscious as of now. However, she should be able to make a completely recovery."
Carisi let out a quiet whoop, and smiles broke over the faces of everyone in the room, even Tucker. Barba, on his part, let out the breath that he didn't realise he had been holding for the duration of the surgeon's assessment. A wave of relief crashed over him, and he muttered a silent prayer of thanks.
"Can I…can we see her?" He asked.
"Ms. Benson will be moved to ICU for a night's observation. As per hospital regulations, usually only family members would be allowed, but…" the surgeon hesitated. "…if Mr. President would like to see her, the hospital can make an exception."
"I would appreciate that. Thank you very much," he said simply.
As the surgeon walked off, Tucker turned to Barba. "Sir, I suggest you return to the White House as soon as possible. The aftermath…"
Barba's tone was cool as he cut him off. "Director Tucker, in future, if I need you to advise me on what to do, I'll let you know. I am very aware of my role, and what needs to be done, but for now, I will to see to Benson before I attend to my responsibilities."
"Yes, Sir," Tucker replied, swallowing his annoyance.
Barba stopped in front of Olivia's private room in the ICU, turning to Carisi. "Carisi, please let me have a few minutes alone in there."
He hesitated for just a spilt second, remembering Tucker's orders, and then he nodded, falling back. "I'll be just outside the door, Sir."
Barba stepped inside the room, and walked closer to her, pulling the chair up beside her bed, sitting down. Looking at Olivia lying on the bed, still and pale, he felt his heart constricting just a little. The Olivia on the bed was so different to the one he knew, the one that walked into his office on that first day, and lectured him on his supposedly lack of concern towards his security, the one that was confident, brazen and authoritative in everything she did.
"Olivia, I believe I told you to ensure that my life would not need saving from you, or from anyone else a mere few months ago." That came out wrong, as if he was blaming her or something of that sort (never mind that she could not hear him). He shook his head slightly, and then continued. "But thank you for saving my life again, although I'd much prefer it if you could save my life without getting hurt."
He watched the rise and fall of her chest. "Seeing you on the floor…it was like Eddie all over again, but then, it was different. Eddie was my best friend, and you are…" He stopped, trying to put his feelings into words. He didn't quite know how to explain who Olivia was to him.
"Losing Eddie was hard, and then you came…you entered my life at a time when I wasn't going to accept anyone into it. You replaced Eddie as Deputy Director of the Secret Service, and as the head of my personal security detail, but you weren't going to replace who he was to me. You weren't supposed to become anyone that mattered personally to me, but…"
He looked downwards, and after a brief moment's hesitation, he placed his hand over hers, curling his fingers around hers. "But you do. You matter. And…and I want you to keep being in my life. I know there's a lot of…complications. And it's not just you, it's me, too. I don't know what's going to happen from here, Olivia."
He picked up her hand, and then rested it briefly against his cheek. "Therefore, I need you to be all right, because I think I want to find out."
Barba lowered their joined hands, and then he placed her hand on the bed, and carefully tucked it beneath the blanket. He didn't have the luxury of time to sit with her for a longer time, no matter how much he wanted to.
Standing up, he smoothed her blankets down, and then ducked out of the room, where Carisi was waiting patiently.
"I'm ready to leave," he announced, and Carisi touched his earpiece.
"Abogado is leaving. Secure the hospital exits."
Barba strode into the Roosevelt Room, right into a flurry of activity. Fin was conferring with Amanda and the rest of the press team, as they prepared the President's speech and the subsequent press conference. Tucker and Murphy were sitting at the table, deep in conversation.
"Rafael!" He turned around to see Calhoun almost running towards him. She stopped in front of him, and then abandoning all protocol, stepped forward and gave him a brief, but fierce hug. She drew back, looking at him with a rare air of anxiety. "Are you all right?"
"Yes, I am, Rita, don't be unnecessarily dramatic," he intoned.
"You idiot," she snapped. "Do you know…" She stopped, as Barba gave her a quick squeeze on her upper arm, letting her know that he understood and appreciated her concern for him, but there were other more pressing matters to attend to then.
"Mr. President," Rollins approached him, and handed him a speech. "The press has been briefed. You're scheduled for the press conference in an hour. Let me know if you need any changes to the draft."
He took the speech, and began scanning in. "Tucker, Murphy. Any updates on the investigation front?"
"Muñoz is in solitary confinement but he has asked for a lawyer. FBI and CIA has taken over the entire investigation process," Tucker reported. "Secret Service will stay informed, but less involved."
"I want to know, exactly, how did he bypass all the surveillance and security. I expect a full report in no more than three days."
"Yes, Sir."
"Calhoun, I presume you will brief the Senate."
"It will be done tomorrow morning," the Vice President affirmed briskly. "I will also meet with the Speaker of the House."
Barba nodded and began looking over his speech in detail, taking out a pen and making notations as he went along. "Tutuola, work out my schedule for the next two days, with reference to this incident. I do not intend to spend more time than what is absolutely necessary in dealing with this matter."
"Copy that, Sir."
There was a general sense of awe in the air as the staff watched their President, successfully slipping back into his role, authoritatively handling all that he needed to handle, despite the fact that a gun had been held to his head a few hours ago. If he was shaken by the incident, he did not show it the slightest.
It was nearly midnight when Barba returned to the White House, after a day of press, briefings, and meetings with senior members of the government. He was completely exhausted, and at the back of his mind, still more than just a little worried about Olivia.
Carisi had been sending him short text updates, and Olivia was stable but had not regained consciousness. Nevertheless, her vitals were strong and it all looked very positive.
He walked into his living quarters, accompanied by two agents, and then he stopped. Lucia was lying on the couch, fast asleep. He sighed, walking towards her. Perching on the arm of the couch, he gently touched his mother's shoulder.
"Mamì?"
"Rafi." She opened her eyes groggily, and then she sprung up, reaching out and hugging him tightly. "Rafi! Mijo! Estás herido?"
"Mamì, estoy bien," he said reassuringly.
She shook her head, and touched the plaster of gauze on his temple. "You are hurt, Rafi."
"It's just a bruise. I'm not injured, I'm fine."
"I was so afraid when I heard, and your agents, they are all so secretive. They told me you're fine but they will not tell me more."
"It is really a long story, Mamì, but I really am fine, please believe me."
"They say it was Alex."
"It was, but I don't know any more than that, exactly why or how."
Lucia shook her head sadly. "Jealousy and hate are terrible things. And I heard, Ms. Benson was injured?"
"Yes, she was," Barba said quietly. "She was shot while pushing me out of the way. But she's stable now."
She looked at her son carefully for a minute, and then she patted his hand. "You are upset."
"Of course I am, just a little. I don't want anyone to get hurt because of me."
She shook her head. "No, Rafi. You are upset, and you know why."
"Mamì…" Barba said, his tone exasperated, knowing exactly what his mother meant, and knowing she was right, but he wasn't about to admit to anything.
"A mother knows her son, mijo. I have always told you, Rafi, that your brain is too smart for its own good sometimes. You rationalise and think too much. You need to listen to your heart more."
"I am the President, Mamì. I can't administer the country by using my heart."
"You know I am not talking about running this country."
Barba sighed, and then tried to change the subject. "I'll ask the staff to prepare the guest room for you, Mamì. We'll talk more tomorrow morning during breakfast."
Lucia understood her son very well, and she always knew when to back off. She nodded, and hugged him again, refraining herself from saying anymore.
But she could see it, rather clearly, his feelings for Ms. Benson.
"Clear some time before my meeting with Cragen," Barba handed his schedule to Tutuola. "I will be going to the hospital to see Benson for a short while."
It was early next morning, and he had just received an update from Carisi that Olivia had regained consciousness, and had been moved out of the ICU and into a normal private ward.
Tutuola exchanged looks with Tucker, but wisely said nothing, making notations in the schedule. "We can fit in forty-five minutes for a visit to Deputy Director, Sir."
"That's fine. And if there's nothing else that needs to be discussed, I'm going to have breakfast with my mother."
Barba walked down the halls of the hospital ward briskly, Amaro walking just as rapidly beside him. He didn't have a lot of time to spare at the hospital, but he couldn't not see her, knowing that she was awake.
He reached her room, and nodded at the two agents standing guard outside her door. Knocking on door twice, he then pushed the door opened, to reveal her sitting up on the bed, a toddler in her arms. A young lady was fiddling with the water jug, and sitting beside her was a tall, dark-haired man in a suit. He was talking to Olivia in an earnest manner, and to his horror, Barba felt a stab of jealousy shooting through him.
Which was ridiculous, because…well, it was just ridiculous.
"President Barba!" The young lady squeaked, her eyes widening. The man stood up as well, an expression of complete and utter surprise his face. Only the little boy seemed unperturbed, looking at him rather nonchalantly, and turning his attention back to Olivia after five seconds.
Olivia's face was still pale, but it had a much better pallor compared to yesterday. She looked up at him, and her face broke into a smile. "Mr. President. Sir, I'm glad to see you're all right."
"Of course I am, Benson. But rather careless of you to get shot," he said, walking closer to her, and placing himself right beside the man. Which was…not a wise move, because he then noticed that the man was well over six feet tall. However, he felt a childish sense of victory when the man moved out of the way, giving him room.
But then, of course he would, Barba was the President after all.
"Oh, that's a very nice thing to say to your injured head of security, Sir," she said, her old spark evident.
"Well, I believe I did tell you to ensure my life would not need saving from you after that first time."
"Oh, you brought the jokes, I see." She rolled her eyes, and then she laughed. Barba felt a jolt as he realised that they were talking like the way they used to, the awkwardness that had come over them when she disclosed her adopted son to him had seemingly disappeared. Swiftly, he grabbed the chair that had been occupied by the man, and sat down on it, pulling himself closer to her on the bed. "How are you feeling?"
"Mr. President, Liv," the man cut in. "I'm sorry for interrupting, but perhaps we should give you some privacy to talk. I'll be outside with Lucy, and we can take Noah as well."
"Thanks, Trevor. But it's okay, I'll like to keep Noah here with me." Her gaze flit from the man to Barba, and then suddenly she came to a realisation. "I'm sorry, getting shot made me forgot all about my manners. Sir, this is my nanny, Lucy Huston, and my lawyer, Trevor Langan. Lucy, Trevor, as you can clearly see, the President of the United States…and also my boss."
Barba held out his hand, and Lucy was the first to take it, still looking shell-shocked. "Mr. President, Sir. It's an honor. I voted for you. I mean, oh…uhh…"
He smiled graciously, and shook her hand firmly. "Thank you for voting for me."
Trevor clasped his hand briefly as well, smiling. "Mr. President, it's indeed an honor. And it's so good of you to come by and see Liv."
Liv?
Barba felt his eyebrows almost disappearing into his hairline when he heard that.
As the door closed behind them, he turned his attention to Olivia again. "So, how are you feeling?" he asked again.
"Good, all things considered. They gave me some really wonderful pain killers, so I'm comfortable." She gently eased Noah a little away from her and stroke his hair back. "Baby, can you please sit down on this chair beside Mummy?"
The little boy nodded, and scrambled onto the chair obediently. Barba looked at the boy, almost transfixed. He was a small boy, with curly brown hair and big eyes.
"My son, Noah." Olivia said, following his gaze.
He paused, and then held out his hand to the little boy. "Hello," he said, almost formally. Noah glanced his hand curiously, and then made a grab at it. "Hello," he lisped.
Olivia gave a laugh, looking amused. "You have no idea how to interact with toddlers, do you?"
"It's obvious, isn't it?" He said, still looking at Noah.
"Surely you must have kissed babies and played with kids in your history of campaigning."
"Yeah, well, I tried to minimise that."
A silence settled over them as they both looked at Noah, who had let go of Barba's hand and was now looking through a picture book.
"Rafael, I'm sorry," she said suddenly.
He knew why she was apologising, but honestly, in the scheme of things right now, he didn't want to hear that. She shouldn't be saying it. "Don't say that, not when you're the one with a bullet wound because of me."
"No, I need to say this," she took a deep breath. "You were right. I should've told you. I don't know why I didn't, but it wasn't because I don't trust you, or think you're not important enough."
"Olivia, you don't owe me any explanation. You were right, it was your personal life, I had no right to…"
"But you're my friend."
He looked at her face, looked at the earnest expression, and it just came out. "Is that all I am? Just a friend?"
Surprise flitted across her face. It wasn't as if the question was unexpected, given all that had happened between them, but for him to be so direct about it, that was surprising. And she wasn't sure she knew how to answer that.
Barba waited, but she was silent, turning towards her son, and resting her hand on his head.
"I'm sorry, should I take that back?" He asked quietly.
"Yes…no…I mean…" she fiddled with the corner of her blanket. "I don't know if I could talk about this now."
"Olivia, I am going to be really honest with you. I don't know where I'm going with this either. I don't know what's going to happen. But…I want to know. I want to find out."
"Rafael…you're the President. President. Every move you make, everything you do…and it's not just that. I'm the head of your security detail. I work for the Secret Service. There's so much to consider, I'm just not sure I can do this now," she said frankly.
"Is Trevor Langan one of the considerations?" He blurted out, and then he felt horrified. What the fuck was that? Now he sounded like some kind of jealous adolescent with half a brain.
Olivia stared at him, and then she snickered. "President Barba, surely you don't think…no! He's my lawyer. And a friend, but nothing more than that."
"But he calls you Liv." Oh great, now he sounded like first-class, grade A brat.
"Well…you can call me Liv, too."
He smiled at her, and then gingerly, he placed his hand on top of hers. She looked at his hand, and felt a strange sense of déjà vu. Almost as if this had happened before.
"Liv," he said, his tone serious. "I want you to know, that I…I want something a little more between us. But I will respect your decision. If you want us to go back to status quo, back to everything the way it was before, I will respect that."
He paused, trying to get his thoughts into order, and then he continued. "I came close to losing you yesterday, and it made me realise that you matter to me. Whatever your decision is, I don't want our friendship to change."
She looked at him, looked at this usually stoic and sarcastic man, the President, and she knew it was a feat for him to say what he had just said. It touched a chord in her, but she was still apprehensive. It was too difficult, it was too complicated.
But did she want it? Something more between them?
She would be lying if she said no.
"I'm not going to pressure you about this," Barba said in a rush. "I'll be in New York for the next few days, and then on to San Francisco. I'll only be back in Washington early next week."
Olivia nodded, and then she found her voice. "I'll think about it.
He stood up, with an air of reluctance. "I have to go."
"A President never stops," she said, trying to inject a little normality back into the situation. He knew what she was trying to do, and he obliged, giving her a little smirk.
"One of my many sacrifices."
His gaze drifted over to Noah. The little boy was sitting quietly, immersed in his picture book. "He's beautiful, Liv."
She looked at her son, her eyes soft. "He is, isn't he?"
He had never been good with kids, in fact he had never genuinely like children, stemming from the fact that he did not know how to interact with them. It was a strange feeling to have, to feel that he truly wanted to get to know this little boy called Noah.
"Well, good bye, Liv. I'll see you in a few days' time."
She smiled at him, and lifted her hand in a wave. He gazed at her, and before he could second-guess his decision, he leaned down, and brushed her cheek with a kiss.
As he left the room, Olivia raised a hand to her cheek, to the spot where his lips had been a mere moment ago.
"Wow," she whispered to herself, almost dizzy with all that had transpired earlier. It seemed almost unreal, that the President of the United States actually told her that he had feelings for her. She was fairly certain that she felt the same, but the doubts and the apprehension were still as strong as ever.
Could it actually work, between her and the President? What would it mean for her job? She had worked so hard to get to where she was, and she wasn't willing to give it up. What if it ultimately didn't work out? What was going to happen?
Slumping back onto her pillows, she inwardly groaned. Noah looked up from his book, and then grabbed her arm. "Mummy hurt?"
"No, baby, Mummy's fine."
"Man bye bye?" He asked, pointing towards the chair that Barba was occupying.
"Yes, Noah, the President had to leave."
"Preh-see-dent." Noah tried to enunciate. "I like Preh-see-dent, Mummy."
Olivia laughed, and then hugged Noah closed to her side. "I like him, too, baby."
"You're strangely chipper," Calhoun scruntinised Barba carefully.
"I didn't understand that. What strange language are you using now, Rita?"
They were sitting in the Oval Office, having a last minute meeting before Barba had to depart for New York. Calhoun lifted her coffee cup to her lips, sipping it. "I heard you detoured to the hospital this morning."
"So?" He said nonchalantly, making a notation on the documents he was reading.
"How is Deputy Director Benson?"
He looked at her, raising one eyebrow. "She's fine."
"Oh, that's good. Have you told her that you're in love with her yet?"
Barba, in the midst of drinking of his coffee, sputtered and started choking. "Excuse me?" he said, once he had stopped coughing.
Calhoun smirked at him, looking positively gleeful. "So, did you?"
"Rita, I am not in love with Olivia."
"What did I tell you about not bullshitting yourself?"
"I am not," he said firmly, decisively. He had feelings for Olivia, yes, but it was far too soon to speak of love. Barba did not take that term lightly, not at all. In his forty-six years of life, he had only told one woman (besides his mother) that he loved her.
And that worked out spectacularly badly.
"You are not…yet." Calhoun gave him a cat-that-ate-the-canary grin.
"Rita – said with all the affection I have for you – please shut up."
"Fine, I'll shut up, but that means you won't hear what I found out about the protocol of the President having a relationship with any of his presidential staff."
Barba sat up straight, shooting a look towards Calhoun. She purposely ignored him, turning her attention back to her work, humming under her breath. Minutes ticked past, and then he gave a frustrated sigh.
"Fine, what did you find out?"
"That it's all right as long as you don't tell anyone."
"Seriously, Calhoun? I am not amused."
She winked at him cheerfully. "If Deputy Director Benson means enough to you, you'll find it out yourself."
He gave her a death glare, but said nothing. Instead, he flipped to a clean page on his legal pad, and began writing.
"Thanks, Lucy." Olivia lowered herself carefully on her couch as Lucy brought in the little suitcase of random things. She rested her hand on the side of her stomach as Noah clambered onto the couch beside her. There was a slight, throbbing pain, but all things considered, she had recovered remarkably well.
Lucy entered the living room again, with someone behind her. "Liv, you have a visitor."
She looked up to Tucker striding purposefully into her house. "Benson," he said, his tone brisk. "How are you feeling?"
"Director, what a surprise." She forced a smile for Tucker. "I'm recovering."
"That is excellent to hear. I gather you're planning to return to work soon?"
"As soon as I am able to."
"You do realise that you will be temporarily relinquished from your role in the President's active security team?"
She felt a little flicker of annoyance. "Yes, sir."
"You will be placed on administrative duty, of course, but I still expect you to be responsible for the President's security detail. President Barba is returning from San Francisco tonight, and we will have at briefing tomorrow regarding the new arrangements. If you're not able to attend the morning briefing, we can arrange via video-conferencing."
"Thank you, Director, but I will attend the morning briefing in person," she said smoothly.
"As you wish. Seven hundred hours tomorrow."
Olivia sneaked a glance at her watch. Five o'clock in the afternoon.
Fourteen hours until she would see him again. And she still did not have a clear answer in her head.
to be continued
Spanish phrases via Google Translate:
Estás herido – are you hurt
Estoy bien – I'm all right
Yay, it got through Barba's thick skull!
Special thanks to barsonaddict for that little side plot regarding Trevor. ^.^
And whew! I kind of had a struggle getting this together, especially the paragraphs in the hospital. Changed my mind a few times, but ultimately ended up with what I originally had in mind.
I hope this chapter is enjoyable – and as always, reviews and comments are 100% love!
