"What's gotten into you lately?"

Ed stared at Olivia from across the counter, his blue eyes penetrating and hostile; she felt exposed, naked, standing in her own kitchen. The entire conversation they'd had had been hostile, indeed; the dust kicked up from the revelation that he'd quit IAB without telling her had yet to settle, and neither of them had backed down all through their awkward dinner of Thai take-out. Yet this question felt out-of-the-blue and worryingly separate from that argument.

"What are you talking about?" she asked nonchalantly, although she turned her back to him and retrieved a clean mug from the dishwasher to hide from his eviscerating gaze.

"One day you're sobbing about Mike Dodds, and the next you're fine and it's like nothing happened. Who did you talk to?"

She ignored the question and Ed's demanding tone, although it still made her bristle. "I'm not allowed to feel happier? Are you seriously dictating the way I should mourn a squad member?"

Olivia refused to look at him - she'd only become undone, and that wasn't the way she wanted this to go. She grabbed the nearest dish towel and started drying her glasses with methodical precision. Of course Ed would flip if he found out she'd visited Rafael and rekindled her friendship with him. Of course he'd go ballistic if he found out that Rafael was the reason she'd been able to process her grief.

And kissed him, of course.

She scrubbed hard at her coffee mug, wishing she could make this line of questioning go away as easily as the layer of moisture on the ceramic handle did.

"And where were you when I came to the precinct that afternoon before we went out to dinner? Fin told me you were at 1PP, but I know those briefings ended two hours before I came to the precinct to look for you."

"How did you even know that?" Deflecting. He'd smell a rat in seconds.

"I have friends in 1PP, Olivia. And you're not answering any of my questions," he retorted indignantly.

"You're surveilling me now? I went to lunch." Not technically a lie. She'd eaten her dumplings in the car on the way to Rafael's hotel room. But how dare he talk to her like he was a suspect. "See, IAB wasn't the problem. You've left and you're still questioning me like I'm under investigation. What happened to working on our relationship?"

She could almost hear Ed wince and knew it was too much - this IAB situation clearly had left the both of them on edge - but he'd practically asked for it with this line of questioning. "I stand by what I said - you've been acting strangely, Olivia. Is there something you're not telling me?" he demanded.

"I'm not going to be particularly keen on telling you anything if you treat me like I'm one of your suspects. Don't patronise me, Ed."

"This is exactly why I left IAB. Because you keep accusing me of doing exactly that. If you have nothing to hide, why do you have to be so difficult and secretive?"

Ed's imperious, accusatory tone caused something in her to snap, and she slammed her dishwasher shut, angrily turning around to stare him down. "I'm the one who's being difficult and secretive?"

He didn't back down. "Why are you hiding things from me?"

"Why are you demanding I tell you everything? You literally left your job without telling me!" She kept her voice to a frantic, increasingly assertive whisper, careful not to wake Noah. The last thing she wanted was for him to wake up to the sound of his mother arguing with the only father figure he'd ever known, if he even counted as one.

Ed didn't have a comeback, and she realised that they'd reached an impasse. She turned her attention to the kitchen counter and carefully re-shelved her now-clean bowls and plates - the only thing keeping her from storming over to him and escalating this argument even further.

"We need to do something about this," he finally said after a long silence. Not again. What did those words even mean to him when all he'd done was sulk in her presence and quit his job for her without telling her? All talk and no action: she detested that.

Olivia sighed exasperatedly and launched into the same speech she'd recited at least three times that week. "We need to go to Dr. Lindstrom and talk this through with an objective third party, like I've suggested more than once," she retorted, irritation filling her voice. "I've already rescheduled the appointment twice. This will be good for us."

"And I still don't think that's a good idea," Ed responded insistently. "I don't feel comfortable sharing all this with someone."

For how supportive he is of me going to therapy, he sure hates the idea himself.

Olivia couldn't understand Ed's resistance to an hour-long conversation about their problems with the sagacious therapist, especially when they'd already expended plenty of energy on these aggressive quasi-shouting matches. "It's his job to listen. You know about doctor-patient confidentiality… Whatever we tell him is never going to leave the walls of his office."

"Still." Ed drummed his fingers against the countertop and averted her gaze. "Liv, I think you should go ahead without me."

"Fine."

"You might as well tell Dr. Lindstrom everything, since you're clearly not talking to me about anything that's happened the last two weeks," he snarled.

"I'm not going to talk to you if you're going to treat me like a suspect, Ed. If you want to fix things but keep refusing to go to therapy with me, you find a solution, then."

She watched as Ed made his way to the door and put his shoes back on. "There's no point talking about this any further tonight. I'm going home."

He stormed out of the front door without another word, leaving a seething Olivia standing alone in her kitchen. She slammed the kitchen cupboard door shut, metal banging loudly against wood, and retreated to the safety of her room.

If the last month hadn't been enough of a sign, this argument certifiably was the beginning of the end.

"I don't know what's gotten into him lately," Olivia sighed.

She looked at the empty seat next to her, and as odd as it seemed outside of this specific context, wished that Ed was sitting next to her. "We're having all these issues, and Ed still refuses to come for therapy with me."

Dr. Lindstrom nodded - that'd been quite clear to him when Olivia had rescheduled the appointment not once, but twice, and when she'd arrived in his office that morning alone. This didn't surprise him much: from what Olivia had previously told him about the now-former IAB captain, he wasn't particularly effusive or forthcoming with his emotions - even more so than Olivia had once been.

"If your idea of working on your relationship is coming to therapy together, what is Ed's?"

"I don't know, honestly…" She chewed on her lower lip and absent-mindedly fiddled with her necklace. "Being possessive and overprotective maybe? Right now all we're doing is argue about what we should do to fix things between us, but he doesn't seem to want to do anything to actually fix things. And then he quits his job for me without telling me. He thinks I should be grateful for him doing it, but I never wanted that."

"It sounds like the issue at hand is a lack of communication. Your expectations are different - Ed thinks he's fixing your relationship, but he's only pushing you away with what he's doing."

"And it's a vicious cycle. He pushes me away, I run to Rafael, and then Ed gets even more paranoid and it just gets worse."

Dr. Lindstrom paused his frantic note-taking and pondered over what Olivia had just told him. "When you say you run to Rafael… what do you mean by that?"

She chewed on her bottom lip and took a swig from the glass of water on the table. Olivia hadn't intended to bring up Rafael just yet - after all, she'd meant to come with Ed, and she certainly wasn't going to come clean with him with him in the room, but without his imposing presence to hold her back, it was finally time to come clean with someone about the ongoing situation with Rafael.

"I went to see him after the funeral. He'd been moved to a secure hotel in Midtown because some BX9 members had threatened his life, and we talked…"

Olivia frantically recounted the events of the last week - the Forlini's takeout, the late-night calls and conversations, those damn kisses - and realised that her face was flushed; whether with embarrassment, sheepishness or something else, she had no clue. Dr. Lindstrom hurriedly took notes and nodded along calmly, but even his stoic demeanour didn't do much to slow her down. She'd been bottling this up for far too long, and the words tumbled out without a trace of hesitation.

"... we're friends again, and I've been so happy about that, but Ed's been taking this terribly, and he's just getting more and more paranoid…" She realised that she was absolutely parched and paused to take a sip of water, so Dr. Lindstrom seized the opportunity to jump in.

"It's becoming clear to me that these situations are inextricably linked, Olivia. The trust issues Ed is having with you are rooted in what happened with Rafael all those weeks ago, but I have to agree that he's crossed the line with his surveillance of you and your activities." He looked at her concernedly, brows furrowed. "This is probably what you need to address with Ed first, even before bringing Rafael up with him. If he's behaving this possessively, especially when you're still getting through a period of mourning, I'd be very concerned. And it's quite manipulative of him to quit his job for you without asking, and then blame you for not being more grateful. Has the possibility of breaking things off with Ed crossed your mind?"

"Of course. But it's a difficult step to take, and this situation with Rafael isn't making it any easier."

"In your head, why exactly did you want to break up with Ed?"

Hearing Dr. Lindstrom actually speak that possibility into existence made her shudder. "But here's the thing - I don't want to break up with him, really. I just want things to be the way they were," she confessed. "He's stable; reliable. I want that Ed back."

"Even though his behaviour has been quite worrying of late?" Dr. Lindstrom frowned. "I know his trust in you has been shaken, Olivia, but that still doesn't excuse him surveilling your movements across town or demanding your whereabouts. There are much healthier ways to rebuild trust that don't involve you being subordinate to his surveillance. You don't owe him anything."

She knew Dr. Lindstrom's concern was well-intentioned and didn't discount how worrying the situation must have seemed to him, but deep down she had an idea of what was going on. "This.. just doesn't feel like Ed. I know this isn't him. We've both been on edge so much lately and fighting every single day that we're both not behaving like ourselves."

"Maybe a better short-term way of thinking about this situation would be ideal - something not as drastic as breaking up, but something that also doesn't involve making this conflict even worse than it already is. You're still raw from the news of him leaving his job, and need some time to properly process that betrayal of trust; he needs to calm down and reflect on why he made this decision in the first place. Maybe he hasn't accepted it fully yet."

He had a good point. Something about Ed's body language and defensive tone hinted that he still wasn't fully on board with the decision he'd made. "That sounds sensible."

"It'd also be worth taking this time to think about what exactly it is you're envisioning when you want things to return to the way they were with Ed. What might that look like?"

"Before I slept with Rafael, we dealt with conflict so differently. Of course we fought and disagreed on things, but Ed never tried this hard to overcompensate. I just think we'd be so much better off if he stopped trying so damn hard and making things worse in the process. I've apologised to him a million times and told him that he doesn't need to do all this, but he still doesn't trust me fully, and I just wish I had a chance to rebuild that with him without feeling like we're taking three steps back for every one we make." She took a second to collect her thoughts. "I know things between us are never going to be the same, but I just want to get there first."

"If Ed doesn't feel comfortable coming to therapy, this is something you'll have to address with him openly. But you can't be doing this when both of you are so agitated."

I'm not agitated, she almost snapped, but her flushed face and rapid breathing said otherwise. Dr. Lindstrom was right. She couldn't handle this right now; she needed to calm down just as much as Ed did.

"Right now it sounds like both of you to take a step back from this. Not talk for a few days so you have the space to sort out your emotions. A clean break for both of you to calm down and decide on your next course of action. Only then will we - hopefully - be able to work on the issues together."

"You're right. I think that'd be for the best." She didn't know how else to convince Ed that following her to see Dr. Lindstrom would be helpful for them, but surely there had to be a way of making him warm up to the idea.

"Good, good." Dr. Lindstrom glanced at his notes again before continuing. "Do you have other things to occupy yourself with while you and Ed take this break?"

"Why do you ask?"

"I think it's important that you also reflect on how Ed fits into your life at the moment, and continuing with work or other activities can help keep that perspective in check."

"Well, work is in full swing now that Rafael is back in the squad room. And I actually have dinner with him planned, to celebrate the threats against him ending."

"Rafael?" Dr. Lindstrom cocked an eyebrow worryingly. "Does Ed know that you've spent time with him recently?"

"He definitely suspects something, but I've not told him directly, no," she admitted. "I just don't want to throw away a perfectly good friendship - not after what happened with all the loss and violence."

"But you kissed Rafael, didn't you?" He didn't have to elaborate for Olivia to know exactly what he was getting at. Even Dr. Lindstrom knew that she was swimming in dangerous territory.

"I think I can be friends with Rafael while fixing things with Ed," she replied with more confidence than she actually had, which surprised her. "And I'll talk to Ed about this eventually. After we've both calmed down. I don't want to cut Rafael out just like that."

She wasn't sure if Dr. Lindstrom would be satisfied with her response, but all he did was nod slowly. "A lot rests on how you and Ed communicate in the next few days and weeks. I trust that you'll intervene appropriately with him if he continues his possessive behaviour, Olivia, but otherwise, let's talk again in two weeks?"

"That works. I'll be in touch. Hopefully Ed will come around to the idea of therapy."

As she strolled down Central Park West and into the nearest subway station, she mulled over what she'd just said to Dr. Lindstrom.

I think I can be friends with Rafael while fixing things with Ed.

Truthfully, she was still in two minds about that. It seemed utterly implausible and she wondered if she was being delusional. Ed had every reason to be mistrustful of Rafael. She wouldn't want someone who'd cheated on her to hang out with the person they'd cheated with, not once, but technically twice now.

But she and Rafael hadn't gotten close to doing that again - this friendship was too important to them for them to risk crossing a line again. Better that they stayed close and maintained carefully calibrated boundaries than risk another war, right? And maybe, just maybe, she'd talk to Ed about the situation and he'd grow to be alright with it eventually. She wouldn't know until she tried.

Oddly, it was one of the things she felt confident about. This friendship mattered to her; to the both of them. They weren't going to screw it up in another moment of passion. As long as she kept her eyes open and let the heightened emotions of the last fortnight pass - being caught off-guard or in the middle of an emotional storm were the circumstances that had spelled trouble - she was sure she was going to be alright. And whether or not she was being delusional, she'd spend her energy actually fixing things instead of getting caught in her own head. That seemed like what she needed to do at the moment.

"What's gotten into them lately?"

Amanda casually leaned against the break room wall and sipped her latte, eyes lingering on Olivia's empty office.

Sonny almost didn't hear her over the whirr of the coffee machine. "What do you mean?"

"Barba's been back at work two days and suddenly the precinct feels like a different place. Everyone's in such a good mood. Even Barba."

"And I thought I was the nosy one around here," he teased. "Why have you been so fascinated with Lieu and Barba lately?"

"Nosiness is in my Southern blood, Dominick. I'm just sneakier about it than you are. And you can't tell me you haven't noticed it too." She dipped her voice and leaned in. "Look, I'm not saying it's a good or bad thing. It's just… different now."

He sipped his coffee and pondered over the issue. "You have a point. Thought the Dodds thing shook her up pretty bad, but it feels like her mood suddenly changed overnight. And…" he leaned in to whisper, "when Fin and I went to get Barba from the hotel room last week, he thought it was Lieu at the door. He was expecting her."

"Oh, she definitely spent a lot of time there. I bet that's why she's been so cheerful the last few days."

"Speak of the devil…" Amanda and Sonny immediately feigned nonchalance and strolled back to their desks as Olivia appeared in the doorway, engaged in deep conversation with the ADA. Neither detective missed the twinkle in both their eyes and… was that laughter from Rafael Barba? If Amanda had to be honest with herself, hearing Barba laugh in a context that wasn't a smug speech or cunning cackle creeped her out just enough to make her feel uncomfortable, and the sudden change in his demeanour made her head spin.

"Lieu, Barba. Want a cannoli?" As smooth as ever, Sonny casually waved the Tupperware box sitting on his desk at them before Olivia noticed them dawdling.

"I'm actually pretty full from lunch, but want to split one with me, Rafael?" Her eyes moved between the tantalising confections and the ADA, and Amanda couldn't resist sneaking a smirk at Sonny. See what I mean? she mouthed.

Oh my God, Sonny mouthed back. All that laughter, and now sharing a cannoli? That was every Italian boy's dream date. He hadn't even been able to convince his ninth-grade crush to share one with him, but here Olivia and Barba were, splitting one in the middle of the squad room. Of course cannolis weren't as sacred to them as they were to him, but he couldn't resist staring at them and the uncharacteristic warm smile on Barba's face.

Obviously neither had noticed the junior detectives' brief exchange, because Olivia gleefully helped herself to one and broke it in half for a grateful Rafael. Seconds later they were walking towards her office, conversation back in full swing as though Amanda and Sonny no longer existed.

Amanda chuckled and helped herself to another cannoli. "I swear we woke up in a parallel universe today."

"I'd buy that. Especially since this parallel universe has cannolis and a happy Rafael Barba."

"Honestly, I'm happy for Liv. Seems like Barba's bringing some joy back, which is good for all of us."

Amanda meant it, but she still didn't quite know what to think - if they hadn't known about Ed Tucker, she wouldn't have ruled out the possibility that Liv and Barba were a couple. Olivia's increasingly buoyant mood had only improved even further after Barba had returned to work officially, and there was a light in her eyes that she never saw in the all the times she'd seen Olivia with Ed Tucker. And now she and Barba were arriving at the precinct together and sharing a cannoli?

God, it was weird. Nice, but weird.

"I'm happy for her, too. Think Barba's the friend she really needs now."

"Friends" who obviously have more than just friendship between them, they both agreed as they exchanged smirks. They'd never bring this up with either their lieutenant or Barba, of course, but they definitely had a new office gossip topic.

Neither resisted exchanging another smirk later that evening after their discussion of the case, when Olivia and Rafael left the precinct and walked down the street together, still deep in conversation and arms so close that they almost touched.

"What's gotten into me lately?" Rafael twirled his spaghetti around his fork and looked at his dinner companion with a wry smile.

"Tell me more." Olivia sipped from her glass of Cabernet and set her glass next to his - which, amazingly, was identical to hers and not his usual scotch. When they'd sat down to order, she almost ordered his drink on his behalf, only for him to suggest they share a bottle of wine instead. That he remembered her usual order didn't strike her as being particularly unusual, but for him to offer to drink wine at what was meant to be his celebratory dinner made her heart swell more than it should have.

"I think I've laughed more in the last week than I have in the last year," he realised with a smile.

"Well, I'm glad that I had a part to play in that."

From her visits to his hotel room to his return to the squad room, Rafael hadn't laughed as heartily as he had in ages. Conversation just flowed naturally with Olivia, and ever since the night he'd played her his Spotify playlists on his Bluetooth speaker in his hotel room, the childhood stories, college tales and work highlights hadn't stopped tumbling out. Not even Rita Calhoun made as humorous and warm a conversation partner as Olivia, and he'd known Rita for twenty years. And now, sitting across from the SVU lieutenant, he felt more comfortable than he'd ever had with a colleague; with a friend. He didn't need scotch to loosen his tongue.

They'd joked about this being a date over text; she'd casually reminded him about their dinner date (he didn't forget her choice of words) as she left his office the evening before. They'd spent all afternoon at the precinct and left together while pretending not to notice the quiet smirks that Amanda and Sonny exchanged. Olivia had chosen a pasta place with a distinctly chic - and romantic - vibe, far enough from both of their offices that they didn't have to check if people they knew were in earshot. And the booth was so tiny that their legs were almost touching under the table, every accidental brush sending a shiver up his spine.

It was the perfect recipe for a date. The giddy feeling in his stomach reminded him of the time he'd almost told Lauren Sullivan about his feelings back in the eleventh grade. Except that he was now a 46-year old man who couldn't decide if he was a third party in the relationship between a colleague and notoriously exacting NYPD captain…

Rafael dropped his fork, which sent it crashing against the table.

He looked up, stunned, and his eyes met concerned brown ones. "You okay, Rafael?" she asked.

She hadn't changed out of her work clothes (which he'd seen countless times before), her brunette hair was tousled and unwashed, and her make-up almost completely faded, but god damn, she was beautiful.

I really should be enjoying this more.

After all, wasn't this exactly what he'd been dreaming of doing with Olivia Benson for years now? Complications and Ed Tucker be damned - he wanted to at least pretend this was a real date while he could. He could do that, couldn't he?

He hastily picked his fork back up and smiled at her. "I'm fine, Liv. Really."

She set her fork next to her plate and leaned in towards him. "You sure?"

The table was so tiny that even the miniscule distance she'd shifted left her face mere inches away from his - so close that he could almost feel her breath on his skin. For a casual meal between friends, she'd chosen a restaurant that was awfully intimate, but that didn't seem to faze her.

And maybe, just maybe - it didn't faze him either.

"It's just nice to be able to talk to you outside work, you know?" he finally commented. "And the food here is amazing."

"It really is, isn't it?" She smiled and finished the last of her ravioli. "You know, we really should do this more often."

He had every intention of playing it cool, but couldn't hide his grin. "I'd love that."

The joyous mood continued all through dessert - tiramisu for Olivia, zeppole for Rafael - and the rest of their bottle of wine. The cramped space clearly wasn't an issue for them any longer, because he realised as he finished the last of the sweet pastry that their legs were resting against the other's, and hands so close under the table that they almost touched.

Was she thinking the same thing as he was; resisting the temptation to reach out and grab it? They were sitting so close that it almost felt wrong for him not to do it. But that wasn't a step he wanted to take in the middle of a crowded Upper East Side restaurant, so he turned his attention back to their conversation about 80s cinema.

"What's the movie about? Of course I know about the famous scene at the end with Patrick Swayze and the girl, but I've never seen the rest…"

"Her name is Jennifer Grey, and I honestly can't believe you've never seen Dirty Dancing, Liv. I think I saw it at least three times the summer it came out. I still watch it once a year with my mami. How can you not have watched one of the cultural touchstones of the 1980s? I'm going to be bothering you about this until you've seen it."

God, something about the intensity and passion in his voice and eyes - so different from the professional intensity of ADA Barba - sent a shiver down her spine. "Lend me your Netflix password, then, because I'm not paying for a subscription just to see one movie."

"Even better. I have it on DVD. I'll lend it to you." His eyes suddenly lit up, and he quickly checked his watch. "Unless…"

"Mmm?" Is he suggesting what I think he's suggesting? She felt her pulse skyrocket just contemplating the possibilities.

"It isn't too late yet. If Lucy's staying with Noah tonight… Do you want to head back to my place? Finally watch the movie?" he suggested nervously. Rafael kept his gaze on her and frantically attempted to read her facial expression. This would be her first visit to his place since that night, and his heart thumped loudly in his chest wondering if he'd overstepped. They'd spent so much time together in the confines of his hotel room and essentially gone on a pseudo-date - a part of him told him that he was overthinking this, but he didn't want to be sure until she said so. "I'll just pass the DVD to you if you're not comfortable with that…" he stuttered.

"Actually, your place is a great idea." He felt relief wash over him seeing her break into a smile, and could have sworn that he felt her move her legs even closer to his in the already-confined space, which sent a ripple of electricity through his body. This was looking more and more like a real date by the minute, and he couldn't resist the lure even though he knew very well that he shouldn't be giving in. However, resistance was proving futile, and she'd already agreed - there was no turning back.

"Let's get the check and head back, then," she offered, which reminded Rafael that she'd offered to pay, and wouldn't have it any other way. He watched her sign the slip of paper and leave a generous tip, heart swelling with a giddy mix of contentment, excitement and anticipation. God, how grateful he was to have her with him, caring for him this much - a tenderness and affection he suddenly felt he'd been missing all his life.

All the pieces were in place, except for just one: they weren't actually dating. He'd realised all through this date, however, that maybe he was alright with pretending they were.

The sun was setting over Manhattan as they left the restaurant, still in a tipsy, jubilant high. The last time they'd walked down a city street together they'd been leaving Washington Square Park after a particularly sensitive and emotional lunchtime discussion, but without that tension hanging over them any longer, Rafael and Olivia felt the physical distance between them narrow, just like it had in the hotel room and the restaurant; now they gravitated towards the other, fingers dangerously close to touching. Had they always walked like this before the incident that imploded their friendship? Rafael wished he remembered the feeling of ambling past 60 Centre Street after a long, exhausting trial, coffee in hand and Olivia beside him (it felt like so long ago), but even as those memories grew distant and hazy, he realised he was making brand new ones with her.

The cool late spring breeze caressed her hair and ruffled her blouse and she felt herself shiver slightly; Rafael responded by wordlessly wrapping his arm around her shoulder. Olivia leaned in and sank into his embrace, grateful for his warmth, but far more drawn to the feeling of him protecting her in his arms as they drank in the city sights. Orange and pink hues were quickly replaced by neon but time felt languid; neither exchanged a word as they strolled past luxury condo after luxury condo along Park Avenue. The laughter wasn't as raucous and the banter almost non-existent, but neither of them felt the need to change that. This - this intimacy, this closeness - felt more right than ever, and all the self-doubt and guilt that lay buried in the crevice was trivial in comparison.

They stood in front of his building and Rafael instinctively turned to Olivia. One last chance to back out - to turn around, say no to this. That was the last thing he wanted, but God forbid he usher her into the building without being absolutely sure it was what they both wanted.

She smiled and trailed him into the lobby, remembering the last time she'd stormed into this building. The doorman shot her and Rafael a knowing glance, as though he'd recognised her from her previous visit, but she paid him no heed. They stood side-by-side in the elevator, averting each other's gazes, but silently drowning in restless anticipation. When she stood behind him while he unlocked his front door, she wondered how she'd react when he flung it open and she was once again confronted with the crime scene - their crime of passion. Judging by Rafael's tentative movements, he probably was thinking the same, but still neither of them backed away. After all, wasn't watching movies together a completely normal activity between friends?

Olivia inhaled the familiar and sweet scent of fig - an aroma that she quickly realised was coming from the Diptyque diffuser on the living room table - which immediately unlocked a torrent of memories. The specifics she couldn't quite remember as clearly because of her scotch-tinged haze from that evening, but she'd never forget the way he'd stared her down by the bay window, how their lips first brushed against each other's, or the dexterity and care with which he'd undressed her at the foot of his bed, even amidst the heat of the moment. Between Rafael's inviting, warm gaze and the events of the past week, however, her recollections of the torrid evening suddenly didn't seem so abhorrent. They'd had the whole half-an-hour walk back to his apartment to say no to this, and it was clear that neither wanted to bring this night to a close so soon.

She took a deep breath and told herself to live in the moment. They weren't drunk. They weren't kissing or ripping the other's clothes off. This was perfectly innocuous.

You're doing nothing wrong, Olivia. Just enjoy this.

"Make yourself comfortable. I'll get everything set up."

She kicked off her shoes and sat cross-legged on Rafael's leather couch, which still smelled brand-new and wasn't covered in ice-cream and juice stains. In fact, his whole apartment felt new. She hadn't paid attention to much of it during her last visit - obviously, they'd been occupied doing something else - but being able to take it all in without engaging in an argument helped her see it in a new light. The living room was full of tasteful, chic-looking pieces; his kitchen was surprisingly large by New York City standards and housed stainless steel appliances that looked ten years newer than hers. Between the floor-to-ceiling bookshelf filled with Nietzsche and Woolf and expensive-looking paintings and sculptures that lined the walls, she would've felt much more intimidated if they didn't also belong to one of her closest friends. As immaculate as this apartment was, it still felt distinctly homely; distinctly Rafael Barba.

Rafael was rifling through his massive media closet for the DVD of the movie. Why he had such an elaborate home entertainment set-up when he spent so much time in the office, she didn't quite understand, but she wasn't surprised either: he'd clearly gone to every expense to decorate his abode. In comparison to Ed Tucker's apartment, which she'd been to only a handful of times and was incredibly spartan and functional, Rafael's had a lived-in and homely feeling to it, and made her inexplicably comfortable despite the emotional baggage it came with.

"I'm glad to be out of my own apartment for once," she commented, as he popped the disc into the player. "Don't get me wrong, I love my son, but it's nice not to have to pick up his toys every once in a while."

"Your toy box is still decorative, huh?" he smirked. It took a couple of seconds for her to remember when she'd heard him say that - it was when she'd called him over to talk about Johnny D's relationship to Noah. Rafael had held Noah like the boy was a ticking time bomb, and remembering his awkward grimace made Olivia chuckle. It was a much-needed moment of levity on a very tense day. "Just so you know, Liv, feel free to leave anytime if you need to," he added.

"Trying to kick me out early, Barba?" she retorted with a mischievous grin.

She resisted the urge to giggle when she saw him tense up. The usually unflappable ADA was acting like a nervous teenager all of a sudden - it was so clear in the way he anxiously shifted his gaze between the TV screen, fridge, and Olivia on the couch. "Of course not, Liv. Stay as long as you'd like. Do you want anything to drink? I have La Croix, scotch, Cabernet, coffee…" He recited a full list of the drinks he had on hand with the fervour of a courtroom closing speech, and she would have laughed if he weren't so visibly nervous and awkward.

"Coffee's good, thank you. You have Cabernet at home? I've known you for years and tonight was probably the first time I've seen you drink wine."

"I thought I'd have a bottle on hand for guests." He lingered on the last word.

"This guest can always appreciate a good Cabernet. You're an excellent host."

She pretended not to notice him blush - even from her spot on the couch across the living room, she could see the crimson in his cheeks. He'd shed his suit and now was flaunting his purple suspenders - a pair she especially loved - and rolling up his shirt sleeves, which exposed his muscular forearms.

Don't be a creep, Olivia, she admonished herself when she realised she was staring at him brew the coffee with his fancy press, but she couldn't stop herself from staring. His confidence in the courtroom translated right into his ease in the kitchen, and the realisation that she'd never dated someone quite like this only made her feel even more embarrassed with herself.

You're not dating Rafael Barba - stop it!

Olivia quickly turned her eyes back to the screen when Rafael re-appeared next to her with two cups of fresh coffee and pressed play on the DVD player. The opening credits rolled and she rested her arms on her lap, unable to decide what to do with them. She and Rafael were sitting awkwardly a foot apart and she couldn't understand why that was bothering her so much.

Focus on the movie!

She focussed intently on the action on the screen and her coffee cup, although her eyes occasionally drifted to the man beside her, who was glued to the screen and silently mouthing lines under his breath. Even his movie-watching habits were as intense as the way he took notes and stared people down in court, and as difficult as it was for her to admit it to herself, it was enthralling.

The movie turned out to be much better than she'd initially expected it to be, but then again, she fully trusted Rafael's taste in film and literature, being the cultured man that he was. As Patrick Swayze led Jennifer Grey in a steamy dance lesson set to Eric Carmen's Hungry Eyes (a song that she did recognise from evenings surfing the radio in college), their legs and bodies moving in perfect sync, she suddenly became aware of the heat she and Rafael were radiating - they hadn't budged from their original spots on the couch despite having made themselves comfortable, and now she wondered if he'd reach out to touch her. Did she want him to reach out and touch her?

Focus on the movie!

She thought of the way he'd swayed his hips to the music when they were listening to music in his hotel room as she watched Patrick Swayze glimmer and shimmy under the harsh stage lights, and wondered if Rafael Barba could dance too.

Focus on the movie!

She almost didn't notice Rafael's arm inching closer to her as she entertained her deeply distracting train of thought, but instantly was pulled back to reality when she felt it press against her shoulders. Without another moment of hesitation, they slid next to each other, feeling their thighs touch and residual tension flee their bodies - there was no doubt in either of their minds that they'd been waiting to do precisely this. They stayed this way for the rest of the movie, laughing heartily as Lisa butchered her performance of Hula Hana, and silently relished the simmering sexual tension between Johnny and Baby, while also dancing around the blindingly obvious sexual tension in the very room they were sitting in.

She tried her hardest not to turn and kiss him again.

From his body language, it was clear that he was holding back too.

They smiled when I've Had The Time of My Life filled the room and the climactic dance sequence appeared on the screen, and Olivia instinctively bobbed her head to the music, although this was the first time she'd actually paid close attention to the lyrics.

You're the one thing

I can't get enough of

So I'll tell you something

This could be love

Rafael was so engrossed in admiring the dance moves and the couple's chemistry that he didn't notice her stare at him. If she had to be honest with herself, romantic movies weren't exactly her cup of tea, but she was having the time of her life, indeed, just watching him enjoy it so much.

Is this love? She didn't want to confront that question just yet if it meant putting a damper on the events of the evening. His arm was still around her and something about this entire pseudo-date - the pasta, the walk, the coffee, the movie - had been profoundly comforting. It came as no surprise that their friendship was this strong after so many years of working together, but this was one of the very first evenings they'd spent together that didn't involve a single mention of work, and it'd been nothing but splendid.

The credits rolled, but Rafael didn't budge from his position; instead, he tightened his grip around her shoulders and had to resist the urge to run his fingers through her brunette locks. "What did you think?"

"I never made you for a romantic movie kind of guy, but that was great," she said sincerely. "Tonight has been so nice, Rafael."

"Well, now you can say that you've seen the movie. I'm so glad you enjoyed it." He rested his head against hers and quietly exhaled, an easy silence filling the room. The coffee had cleared any traces of tipsiness from their systems, and they clung onto each other, breaths gradually falling into sync, until Olivia looked up at the clock on the wall and realised it was close to midnight. If she didn't move now, she'd never be able to tear herself from his embrace.

"I hate to end this, but I really should get home soon and get some sleep before work tomorrow morning," she pointed out with a tinge of disappointment in her voice. Responsibility called and there was nothing more she hated than going to work without a shower and fresh change of clothes (not to mention the gossip that would follow), but the thought of leaving Rafael's apartment remained thoroughly unappealing.

"Thanks for coming, Liv." He reluctantly stood up and ushered her to the door while she put her boots back on and called an Uber to take her back home. "I really hope we get to do this again sometime."

Did that come off too desperate? He looked at her anxiously and waited for her reaction with bated breath - how had he been reduced to a nervous teenager in just one night? This wasn't even a real date, and here he was, nervous as he had been with Lauren back in the day.

"Me too, Rafael," she beamed, which slowed his racing heart. "I had a great time."

They stood awkwardly in his doorway, unable to decide what to do next as they waited for her Uber to arrive. Say goodbye just like that? Too clinical. Touch the other's shoulder? That felt inadequate.

Hug? Kiss?

Probably not the latter, they both knew (with some disappointment), but that still left them with a multitude of other options. What were they, exactly? Friends, of course, but did people who were just friends have their arms around each other as they watched a movie?

Olivia looked at her phone and realised that she couldn't afford to hesitate for much longer. "The Uber's coming. I'd better get in the elevator. I'll see you at work tomorrow."

"Okay. Text me when you get home safe?"

She nodded, brown eyes exhausted from the long day but still twinkling with happiness, and turned to leave.

Fuck it.

Rafael mustered all the courage he needed in a split-second. He stepped towards her, took her in his arms, and planted a long, slow, intimate kiss on her forehead.

"Goodnight, Liv."

She unsuccessfully hid her blushing cheeks and delighted smile. "Goodnight, Rafa."

The spot where he'd kissed her continued to tingle all the way home. This was getting dangerous, and she knew better than anyone that this couldn't go any further - not before she sorted things out with Ed or broke things off with him.

But you're doing nothing wrong, Olivia. Just enjoy this.

She and Rafael hadn't crossed a line, despite all the opportunities they had to do precisely that.

Maybe they'd be okay after all. They'd better be okay, because she wasn't sure if she could live without this if they ever regressed back into another cold war.

The Uber driver had the radio tuned to an 80s hits station, and she quietly hummed along to Cher and Michael Jackson until the familiar opening bars of the next song played and stunned her into silence.

It took a few seconds for her to figure it out, but she took it as a sign that the universe was agreeing with her when she heard the opening bars of I've Had The Time of My Life pipe through the speakers.