drabble; nocturne
pairing: rafael barba/olivia benson
word count: 1230 words
begin
"Make yourself at home, Liv," Barba says, hanging up his coat and waving a hand towards the kitchen. "There's carbenet in the kitchen, wineglass in the cupboard – you know where everything is. I'm just going to get the case files, and then we can go through everything."
Liv nods, draping her own coat on Barba's coat rack, walking to the kitchen and pouring herself a glass of wine. She sits down at the plush leather couch, grabbing her own files. She frowns at the numerous piles of papers and folders on Barba's coffee table – they are all piled neatly, of course, but undeniably taking up the space they will need to work with.
Clicking her tongue against the roof of her mouth, Liv starts moving the piles of documents and folders to the side table near his bookshelf. As she puts away the last stack, she accidentally knocks her hip against the table, and that causes a mini avalanche of papers.
Cursing under her breath, Liv picks everything up, piling them neatly, hoping she hasn't messed up anything – she'll never hear the end of it from Barba. As she puts the last lot of papers and books into a stack, her eyes land on a thin book, at the very top of the pile.
It's a musical score, and it looks worn and well-used.
"Chopin's Nocturne in E-flat Major," she reads, and she flips through the score. She's not musical, not by any means, but if she has to hazard a guess, it looks like a score for a piano solo.
"Liv? What are you doing?"
She turns around, the score still in her hands, to see Barba looking at her, holding a ring folder, an eyebrow raised.
"Barba, do you mean to tell me that you can play the piano?" She teases, not really expecting him to answer in the affirmative. She knows that he can be really capricious at times, picking up random books and knick knacks that interests him.
To her surprise, a faint blush rises in Barba's face as he takes two steps forward and grabs the score from her, slipping it into the ring folder he's holding. "Shall we?" He asks, gesturing towards his living room.
"Wait, you mean you can play?" She hurries after him, her surprise evident. She would never have pegged for the ADA to be musical, in this sense.
Barba shrugs. "It's neither here nor there. I gained a passing interest when I was in Harvard, so I took a few lessons. I know how to play a few simple pieces, and that's it."
Despite his casual manner, Liv can see his blush deepening and she's intrigued. She can't recall ever seeing Barba blush, and somehow he suddenly looks really young and endearing. Grinning, she leans forward and plucks the score from his folder. "I may be wrong – although I don't think I am – but this definitely doesn't look simple."
He frowns. "Give it a rest, Liv, and let's get to work, shall we?"
She looks around his apartment. "I have a feeling you're hiding a piano in here. Come on, Barba, entertain me."
"No," he says, and he inwardly winces at the petulant tone in his voice.
She laughs and grabs his arm, pulling him up to a standing position. "You know I won't leave it alone – I can be very persuasive, too."
"Fine," he says, albeit snappily.
He strides to the room besides his bedroom, and pushes it open, revealing a sturdy oak desk, more book shelves, and an upright piano at the corner of the room. He rolls up his sleeves, carefully lifting the cover of the piano.
As he settles himself on the piano bench, Liv hands him the score. He looks at it, and shakes his head. "I can do without the score for this one."
She smirks. "If you're trying to impress me, Counselor, it's working."
He smirks back, placing his hands on the keys, and for the first time, she notices how long and slim his fingers actually are.
He begins playing, his fingers dancing over the ivory and black keys. He closes his eyes momentarily as he feels the music beneath his fingertips. Chopin is his favourite composer, always has been, and there's something about his compositions that just manages to capture his feelings, his emotions. A smile forms on his face as he concentrates on the notes and chords of Chopin's melody, the music taking over his senses, as it always does.
Liv's jaw is practically dropping to the ground. She has expected a fairly competent and solid piece of music (she cannot imagine Barba being bad at anything) but she certainly did not expect this.
Barba's fingers, fluid and dextrous, flies effortlessly over the keys, making the piano sing. There's an expression on his face that she has never seen before, a dreamy, soft expression that instantly lets her know that he's lost in the world he has created.
It's like she's seeing him again for the first time, the man at the piano seems worlds apart from the brash, sarcastic Barba that she knows. And yet, it's somehow reconcilable, and it makes sense.
The last strains of the nocturne fades away, and Barba lifts his hands from the piano, smiling to himself. He turns around, and sees her, still staring at him, open-mouthed.
He immediately snaps out of his reverie, and stands up abruptly, closing the cover of his piano. He gives a cough, suddenly feeling a bit embarrassed. He's just revealed a very private part of himself, and to be frank, things are more than just a little bit awkward right now, especially with Liv still staring at him as if he has grown an extra head.
"Barba…I mean, who would've thought…I mean…wow." She's aware that she sounds like a babbling idiot but she's still in a state of disbelief. "Seriously, Barba, that was fucking amazing."
He shrugs, and motions towards the door, walking out of the room. "I believe one song was our agreement, now can we get back to work?"
As he closes the door, she leans against the wall and grins at him. "I know who's going to take centre stage at the next benefit the NYPD holds."
"Oh no, you don't. This is not for common knowledge, Benson."
"But do tell, are you also secretly a violinist? A tango dancer? A Broadway singer?" She smiles mischievously. "Any other surprises you want to reveal today?"
Barba looks at her, her eyes twinkling in mirth, and maybe it's the music, maybe he still hasn't come out of that world, or maybe he's just let her seen a side of him that he has never shown anyone (and he doesn't think he would ever show anyone, before today), but he's suddenly overcome by the strongest urge to kiss her.
He leans forward, and smirks at her. "Maybe this will be a surprise." Before she can speak, he angles his head, and kisses her squarely on the mouth. There's only a split second of hesitation before she responds, her hands encircling his neck to pull him closer.
When they eventually part, breathless, she smiles at him. "I think your piano playing ability is the bigger surprise," she says, fingers stroking the nape of his neck.
"Oh, really?" he asks, quirking an eyebrow.
"Really," she affirms, and kisses him again.
end
It makes sense in my head that Barba bangs out Fantasia Impromptu on the piano whenever he's frustrated with a case.
If anyone's curious, here's the Chopin Nocturne that sparked this drabble: (on youtube) watch?v=5ZUw78FXpG4