NOTE: I've been working on my Barson Valentine's Day Exchange fic on AO3 the past two weeks (feel free to check that out when I post it, I'll cross-post it here too) so this chapter will be short and sweet. Classes are kicking my butt so unfortunately, I can't make any promises about the next chapter but the second it's written, I'll post it. I hope you like this one... Enjoy!


"Liv?" She was staring off at nothing. Rafael set his chopsticks down and leaned forward. "Olivia... Hello?"

She startled, "Yeah?"

Rafael cocked his head to try and catch her eyes, "You drifted off there."

"I—Yeah," she muttered, shaking her head a little.

His forehead crinkled with concern, dinner forgotten, "What's up? You seem... off."

"Rafa..." Olivia sighed as she picked at her sweet and sour chicken, not looking at him. "Don't."

He frowned at her. "Liv..."

She shot a look at him. "Look, it's nothing. Really."

"Bullshit. Is it Amaro?" Hothead. Beating Simon Wilkes in broad daylight? In front of children? Idiot.

She sighed again, "No, although that certainly isn't helping."

I can tell. Rafael nodded, "Okay, then what is it?"

She stared down at her food. "It doesn't matter."

"Clearly it does," he countered. "Or you wouldn't be picking at that chicken. I know that's your favorite."

She gave him a fond smile that faded as she sat up in her chair, "Okay fine. You know baby boy Doe?"

"Yeah, the little boy you found," he said, "You said you've been going to his family court hearings?"

Olivia nodded, "Yeah. Well, it turns out... He has a mother."

His eyebrows shot up, "You found her? That's good!"

She still wasn't looking at him.

Or not...

"...Isn't it?"

"Mhmm," she hummed, shrugging as she gave him that strained smile of hers. He really hated when she smiled like that. "It's this girl, Ellie Porter," she finally said, "She's a DNA match."

When she didn't continue, he spoke, "How did you find her?"

Her expression darkened. "We arrested her. She set up a tourist to be robbed and raped." Disgust twisted her face, "We need her to testify against her pimp but she won't give him up. She's an addict, a repeat offender, and apparently a mother." She stabbed a piece of chicken with venom.

Rafael swallowed heavily before speaking, "And you're not," he concluded.

Her head shot up to glare at him. "Stop that," she snapped, "You're not my therapist."

He winced. "Sorry."

She waved his apology away. "You're right though. Ever since I found that little boy..." Her voice trailed off until—

"Do you want kids?"

"What?"

"Children," she stated, "Do you want to have children?"

"One day?" he clarified cautiously, "Maybe."

She nodded slowly. "Only maybe?"

His eyes dropped to his carton of fried rice. "Depends on what my partner would want," he admitted, "But I love kids."

Her surprise was evident, "Really?"

He shrugged, "Yeah."

"I didn't know that."

"You never asked," he pointed out with a little half-smile.

She smiled at that, "I suppose you got me there. But still... I guess I had you wrong."

"Guess so."

After a pause, Olivia blurted out "How many?"

"How many kids?"

She nodded.

"Why?" he asked, eyeing her strangely.

She shrugged, "Just curious."

"Mhmm..." he hummed smiling a bit, "One. Or two."

She nodded.

"You?"

"Same," she said, "But I—I can't have kids and until now..."

Until now? Rafael looked at her curiously.

"Brian didn't want kids," she explained. "When I thought I was pregnant..." She looked a little wistful.

His face grew stony.

When she looked up at him, he was still scowling.

"What—?"

Shit.

He forced his expression to relax but not before her eyes were narrowed and she was studying him, causing his stomach to squirm uncomfortably. Her expression grew thoughtful. "You never liked Brian."

"So?" He winced. Too defensive.

"Why didn't you—"

"He was an ass."

She frowned at him.

"What?" he asked, "It's true."

She ignored that. "When I told you I had thought I was pregnant, you—"

"I was there."

She was scowling now, "Let me talk!"

"Sorry."

"When I told you I had thought I was pregnant," she repeated, "you looked shocked."

"Well, it was shocking," he said defensively.

"Not that shocking," she countered. "It's not like I was single. This might come as a shock to you, Rafa, but people have sex when they're—"

"I get it," he snapped.

"Do you, Barba?"

"Oh, so we're back to Barba now?"

"Stop deflecting," she scolded, "I told you I had thought I was pregnant, and then you stopped calling."

His mouth opened only to snap closed.

"Why didn't you talk to me after that? Why did you treat me like shit through the Josh Galloway trial?" she asked, "Tell me. Honestly."

His face was officially red, "You know why."

"Do I?" she whispered.

"Olivia..." he warned, "Don't go there."

"I—" She took in his flushed face with a twinge of guilt, "Fine."

They lapsed into an awkward silence until—

"You really love kids?"

"Yeah," he said, "I really do."

She smiled broadly at him.

He cleared his throat awkwardly and changed the subject. She, thankfully, let him.

It was hours later when she was seeing him out that she brought it up once more.

"Before you go," Olivia said, stopping him with a hand on his arm, "Come here."

He quirked an eyebrow at her as she opened her arms to him but obliged, allowing himself to wrap his arms around her. Her scent was almost overwhelming pleasant as he sunk into her embrace only to stiffen seconds later when her lips brushed against his cheek.

"You don't need to be jealous Rafa," she whispered. "Of Cassidy."

He pulled back, heart hammering away, to find her biting her lip, cheeks pink. "You don't."

He swallowed heavily.

"Who said I was jealous?"

She rolled her eyes and closed the door.