NOTE: Thank you so much to everyone who reviewed that last chapter. Your reviews genuinely mean so much to me. Just so you know, you should bring seeing an update in about a week. Apologies in advance for the mini cliffhanger. Enjoy!

Thank god for Rita Calhoun. Rafael would never say it aloud but damn he couldn't help thinking it as Rita briefed him over lunch. Taking Olivia's case so last minute... He owed her.

He waited for the waiter to finish refilling Rita's water glass before he spoke, "So uh, how's Olivia holding up?"

"She walked into traffic yesterday," Rita stated bluntly as she stabbed at her steak. "Not on purpose," she added hastily seeing his horrified expression, "It looked like she was having a flashback." She gave him an odd look. "Why? Don't you talk to her?"

His hands dropped from where they'd been massaging his temples, "I do, I just... wanted an outsider's opinion."

"On how Olivia's doing." It wasn't a question. Rita's eyes narrowed. "Okay," she said authoritatively, placing her silverware down, "You want my opinion?" she asked, "Here it is. You need to stop lying to yourself."

"Excuse me?" Rafael's eyebrows shot up.

"Stop lying to yourself," she repeated.

"About what?!"

Rita was clearly less than amused as she shot him a fed-up look.

"Look, I have no idea what you're talking about," Rafael stated stiffly.

"Oh, you don't?" she asked disbelievingly, "You can deny it all you want, Rafael, but I know you."

He scowled at her, "What exactly am I supposed to be denying here, Calhoun?"

"You like Olivia."

Rafael gaped at her. What? "We're—We're friends," he spluttered, "Of course, I—"

"Liar."

His mouth snapped shut.

"You know you've brought her up like four times already, right?" Rita pointed out.

His nostrils flared, "Only in terms of work and her case so wherever the hell you've pulled this—"

"You call her Olivia." Rita looked infuriatingly calm.

"And?" he retorted.

"And you call the rest of her squad by their last names only," she countered before smirking, "Not to mention how red your ears are. Body language never lies, Rafael."

He swallowed heavily, "Neither of these—"

"Look, you can protest it to me all you want, that's fine, but not to yourself, Rafael," she said, her voice serious. "It's obvious how much you care for her. You were this short of begging when you asked me to represent her. Begging."

Shit. "I... Shut up."

Rita sighed, "Fine, I'll stop. I only say it because I want you to be happy."

Rafael snorted, "Sure."

"I do!" she protested, "When was the last time you had a date?"

Too long ago. "It doesn't matter. Even if it were true, which it's not..." Rafael glared at her as she rolled her eyes, "Now would be quite possibly the worst time to do anything about it."

"And why's that?" she challenged.

Rafael bristled. "I'm not going to take advantage of her, Rita! With the shit Strauss is pulling with this grand jury and with Lewis being so fresh... No."

"You make a valid point."

He blinked.

"But still—"

"No," he snapped. "We're done talking about this."

"But—!"

"Done."

Olivia couldn't help but chew at her lip as she waited outside the courthouse for Calhoun. It was a bad habit of hers but one she didn't have the energy to stave off at the moment. In a few moments, she would know. Either she'd be free or she'd be facing another trial and possible jail time.

Don't catastrophize, she scolded herself, I'm sure it'll be—

Her head whipped over her shoulder at the sound of the door opening. It was Rita. Olivia's stomach lurched.

"So?" she asked anxiously as Calhoun approached her, "What'd they say?"

"The grand jury refused to return an indictment," Rita grinned, "It's over, Sergeant."

Her eyes fluttered closed. "Oh thank god," Olivia breathed, almost shaky with relief, "Thank god."

Calhoun waited until she was looking at her to speak, "Rumor is Leuitenant Murphy went to bat for you."

Her mouth dropped open, "Really?"

Rita nodded.

"Huh..." After a moment, Olivia shook her head. "Thank you, Rita."

"Don't thank me, it's my job, Olivia," she said gruffly, placing her hand on Benson's arm. "Thank Barba for pestering me into this."

Olivia's smile grew fond before she got a mischievous look on her face, "Barba huh? I heard you prefer calling him a scrawny, loud-mouth smart-ass," she said, eyeing Calhoun for a reaction.

The lawyer shot a sharp look at her. "He told you?"

"Yep," she said with a smirk.

"Bastard," Rita frowned. "Of course he did."

"If it makes you feel better, I think it's hysterical," Olivia said cheekily.

Rita ignored her. "Anyways..." she drawled, checking her watch, "I've got a meeting to get to but before I go, a final piece of advice?"

Olivia shrugged, "Why not?"

"Take a break Sergeant," she said simply. "When was the last time you had time to destress?"

"Now you're starting to sound like my therapist."

Calhoun shot her a look, "Your therapist didn't have to pull you away from a speeding taxi. But regardless, a week off to play tourist isn't much Olivia."

Olivia winced at the taxi remark but considered her words. "That's not a bad idea."

"It's my idea, of course it's not bad," Rita quipped before starting down the steps. She only made down two or three before she turned back. "And Olivia?"

"Yes?"

"Rafael gets annoying when he's overworked."

Olivia frowned. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"Whatever you want it to."

With that Rita Calhoun turned and left her there, confused and intrigued.

The door opened with a jingle as Rafael stepped into Forlini's. As he shrugged his coat off, he immediately spotted Olivia at her regular spot at the bar scrolling through her phone. Just seeing her there eased some of his tension and Rita's words taunted him. You like Olivia.

He shook his head and made his way over.

"Now that," Rafael pointed at her wine glass as he sat down next to her, "is your usual."

Olivia pocketed her phone, rolled her eyes, and took a sip of her Merlot. "Is this going to be a thing now?" she asked, "It was one time."

"Maybe it will," he shrugged, nodding to the bartender who went to fix his usual, "It was a fairly memorable 'one time' if I recall correctly."

She grimaced at the reminder, "Don't worry counselor, I'll make sure you won't need to take my keys tonight."

"You sure?" he smirked, "Because I'm pretty sure congratulations are in order. You're cleared!"

Olivia's face broke into a wide grin, "I am! It's finally over."

"It is," he agreed, "So, what can I get you?"

"Nothing for now," she said, "But I reserve the right to take you up on that later."

Rafael grinned, "Sounds good."

The two paused as the bartender placed Barba's drink in front of him before Olivia spoke.

"I still can't believe it was Murphy who saved my ass."

"I heard," Rafael said, taking a sip of his scotch, "He's a good man."

Olivia nodded in agreement, "He's actually going to be sticking around for a while. I'm gonna be his number two."

"Really? What're your thoughts on that?"

Olivia threw her hands up dramatically, "Thank GOD!"

Rafael snorted, "Surely being CO isn't that bad?"

"It's not," she admitted, "But damn is it a weight off my shoulders."

Rafael grinned, "Good. You deserve a break."

"Thanks, Rafael." Olivia gave him an appreciative smile, "Funny you say that. I'm actually planning on taking a week off starting Monday. I'll finally use up some of my many vacation days."

His eyebrows shot up, "You are taking a voluntary vacation? On purpose?!"

"Don't act so surprised," she protested, pouting a little, "I've been known to take a week off here and there."

"'Here and there?'" he quoted dubiously, "More like once in a blue moon," he joked. "I don't think I've ever seen you relaxed. Well, except for when you were passed out in your car."

She scowled and punched him lightly in the arm, "Watch it, Barba, or I won't invite you with me."

"'Invite me?'" The smile slid off his face. "To what?" he breathed.

Her smile grew uneasy. "I was looking into getting tickets to see a show or something... I was going to see if you wanted to come but if you don't want—"

"I do," he blurted out. "I'd love to."

Olivia's eyes crinkled as she smiled, "A little eager there, Counselor."

He could feel his face warming up but he scoffed, "I just appreciate the arts, Benson, don't get too full of yourself."

"Mhmm..." she hummed, "Well, seeing as you're the expert, what do you recommend?"

"Lucky for you, I've got connections," he said smugly.

"Oh, you do, do you?" she said cheekily, leaning forward to quirk her eyebrow at him.

"I do," he said simply. "How do you feel about musical theater?"

"I still cannot believe that was your first Broadway show," Rafael said, shaking his head as they exited the theater. "And you've lived in New York for how long?"

"Look Rafael, it's not my fault my mother didn't care for these sort of things," she protested as she kept her eye out for a taxi, "And I dare you to find any cops who've seen Les Mis or Cats or Phantom at the Opera."

He couldn't hide his grimace, "Phantom of the Opera Liv, not at."

"Whatever!" she groaned, waving her hand at him as they walked along.

"But you liked it?" he fretted, "I know it was a little long—"

"I did," she reassured him with a smile and a touch of his arm, "I promise."

"Good," he grinned.

She slipped her hand through the crook of his arm. "Are you hungry?" she asked him abruptly.

"I could eat," he decided, ignoring the way his heart rate quickened, "My apartment? Take-out?"

"I was thinking mine actually," Olivia said, "But either's fine."

Rafael shrugged, "Yours it is then."

Too much wine. She knew it, he knew it. They had had too much wine. Enough to loosen her tongue and enough to leave him grinning like an idiot.

"You," Olivia announced, poking him in the chest, "Are so nice."

Rafael's grin widened, "I am?" he asked, fishing.

"Yep." Olivia made sure to pop the 'p' as she set her empty wine glass down on the coffee table in front of her couch. "I should be embarrassed, huh?"

His eyebrows knit together, "Why?"

"'Cause I cry whenever you're nice to me," she said simply as she tucked her legs underneath her to sit cross-legged. "And you're always nice. Which means I'm always crying."

"You're not crying now," he countered.

Olivia scowled at him, "You are a smart-mouth—No, loud-mouth—"

"I like smart-mouth."

"Smart-ass loud-mouth!" she declared triumphantly, "You're a smart-ass loud-mouth, Rafael Barba!"

He was grinning again, "Guilty as charged, Olivia Benson, but don't forget nice."

"Ugh, I know!" she complained, throwing her hands up, "Why are you so nice?"

"I dunno, maybe because you deserve it?" he snarked, crossing his arms to emphasize how serious he was.

"Do I?" she whispered, suddenly melancholy.

Rafael's eyes narrowed. "Yes. Yes, Olivia, you do."

"I did beat him."

The energy in the room immediately shifted, settling heavily over them both.

"So?" he finally said, "The bastard deserved it."

"Deserve..." she mumbled, "Who decides what people deserve?"

"I do," Rafael stated bluntly, "Right now, I do."

She rolled her eyes at him, "You're drunk."

"So are you!"

She waved him away, "Ahh, you're right. He did deserve it."

"I know."

"But I still beat him."

"And he kidnapped you!"

"I know!" Rafael flinched at her sudden outburst as she glared him down, chest heaving, eyes wet with unshed tears. "I know what he did Rafael, better than anyone and I know, I know, he deserved it... But I still beat a man half to death while he was cuffed!" Her eyes dropped to the floor. "I'm allowed to feel guilty about it, okay?"

"I—I'm sorry," he stammered, "You're right. I just—I wish I could take it away."

"Take what away?" Olivia asked bitterly, "The guilt? The memories? Both?"

He didn't answer.

"Look," she finally said, meeting his gaze, "I know you didn't mean it like that. I shouldn't have yelled."

"It's fine Olivia, really."

"Okay."

They lapsed into an awkward silence.

"So..." Rafael finally drawled, his sluggish mind searching for anything else to say.

"So?"

"So, uh, have you been enjoying your week off?"

She rolled her eyes at him, "God you're awkward."

"Excuse me?"

Olivia grinned, "'How've you been' is all you got?"

"Hey, I'm drunk!" he retorted, "I can be as awkward as I want."

Just as she opened her mouth to tease him, Olivia yawned. "Shit, sorry."

"Damn what time is it?" Rafael asked, patting his pockets for his phone.

"Pretty late..." Olivia frowned at her watch, "You know what, you should just sleep over for the night."

He froze. "What?"

She shot him a look. "On the couch. Weirdo."

His face flushed. "It's fine, I don't—"

"Rafael. You're drunk."

His lips twitched, "Don't forget nice."

"Really drunk," she amended, "I'll get you some sweats."

"Olivia..."

"Don't 'Olivia' me right now," she scolded. "You're sleeping over. And that's final."

With that, she turned and stalked off toward her room.

"You know you're drunk too," he called after her.

He had to strain his ear to catch her response, "Oh, I'm painfully aware of it counselor. Painfully aware."