IV:

Another surprising thing about Rafael Barba: he loved hair metal bands and never let an opportunity slide to queue up a playlist on his iPod and let it rip when they were together. Olivia found that she didn't mind the anachronistic background music because it added another level of intimacy to their burgeoning relationship; she just wished she could throw in a little bit of pop to lighten it up. She smiled and pressed a kiss to his chest, snuggling closer, relishing the feel of his skin pressed against hers.

She had clocked off her last shift in Brooklyn a couple of hours before and had grabbed takeaway pasta and salad from that place that they kept getting it from because it was right there and she knew what he liked, and met him in the hallway when he got home. Dinner had been subdued, and the sex had been anything but.

"I don't like goodbyes," he said with a heaving sigh.

"Who said anything about goodbye?" Liv asked, tickling his ribs lightly, making him squirm. "I mean, yes, I have to go home because I have to work bright and early at the 1-6 tomorrow, but… that doesn't mean I'm not going to call you and say hi. That doesn't mean we can't go out and catch a movie or have dinner or… have sex. Right? Unless you're breaking up with me. Because I'm not breaking up with you."

She had thought about it a few times over the last week, when the deadline had loomed every closer, when she had been shocked into realizing that she didn't know what she really wanted. The time she spent with him was simple and uncomplicated, their relationship quickly becoming one of the best parts of her life, and she was loathe to give it up. She was still shocked every time he interacted with other people – he was a prickly, sarcastic, snarky asshole – but in private, with her, he was anything but. They were dancing around something softer and gentler than either of them had a right to feel, and it was strange and new and overwhelming…

"I'm not breaking up with you," he said.

"Good." She lifted her head and smiled at him, relieved when he smiled back. His smiles were very rare, and she treasured each one. "Raf?"

"Hmm?"

She hesitated a moment, then said, "I know we've only known each other a few weeks and it's too soon to be making plans but… I'm pretty sure I'm falling in love with you."

He stared at her for a long moment, so long a moment that she began to worry. But then he drew her down for a kiss and he whispered, "Te amo, mi amor."

"Te amo," she breathed, a tiny smile on her lips. He had no idea how hard it was to admit that the feeling that scared her so much was actually affection, that she felt longing and want and desire to build something bigger than herself with him… That she could honestly, for the first time ever, see a potential future with someone else in her life in the long-term. It was frightening, overwhelming even, and she felt a panic attack brewing every time she began to contemplate it. So she sat back and enjoyed being pampered by the ADA who seemingly hated everyone but her, and hoped that they would be able to withstand the rigorous push and pull of their jobs and their high-strung temperaments in order to make it work. Because, dear god, she wanted to fall into bed with him every stolen moment she could for the rest of her life.

"You know…" he said softly, his voice rumbling into her hair, "I'm terrible at this. The dating thing."

"Oh god, me, too," Liv agreed.

"I mean, my last real relationship was in law school," Rafael muttered. "It was good until it all went to shit – she cheated on me and married the asshole: what a clusterfuck. And after that, it was just a couple dates here and there, a few one night stands… but mostly me and my hand and some porn. It was just easier that way; less fuss, less… anguish."

She snuggled closer into him. "If it makes you feel any better, my relationships usually revolve around meaningless sex to feel better about myself and the cases I have to work," she said very quietly. "Except the man I almost married when I was 16. That was to get away from my mother; irony being that he didn't know I was 16 until she attacked me with a broken wine bottle and I almost got arrested for assaulting her. My childhood was… pretty fucked up."

He winced. "Liv…"

She shrugged. "It's fine. I'm fine."

"You don't have to pretend to be fine with me," he promised. "My dad drank a lot, and when he got drunk, he would lash out at me. Because I didn't know when to keep my smart mouth shut. Mami tried to intervene, but he beat her so badly once she ended up in the hospital and she never tried to stop him again. So… me being me, I took it as a personal challenge to piss him off. Up till the day he died and I got to face him down." He smiled sadly. "It's why I'm a prosecutor. To make them pay for what they've done. So they don't get away with it like he did. Like your mother did."

She tangled her fingers with his and whispered, "You're a good man, Rafael Barba. Behind those walls you put up to keep the world out, you are a good man… the best man. I love you."

"Olivia, I'm going to be honest," he confessed. "I don't know where this thing between us is going, and it scares me. I want… so much more than I think I have a right to, and by even voicing that, by manifesting those words into reality, it makes everything more real."

She rose up onto her elbow, looking down at him, her bare nipples barely grazing his torso. "Raf," Liv murmured, "I want nothing more than for us to be squabbling over inconsequential things when we're old and grey, naked in our bed, having just had sex because we still can't get enough of each other. I want to wake up in the morning with you and have coffee and breakfast and watch the news to decide if we're going to have to have extra time to get to work because of the winter weather. I want something real, and lasting – I want everything you're willing to give me, but only if you want to give it."

Talking about her feelings was the most difficult thing she could possibly do: but she was absolutely willing to swallow her pride for Rafael's sake, since she knew he was even worse at it than she was, and he was making an effort.

"Mi mujer rudo," he said with a tiny smile which grew when she raised a brow at his sheer audacity, "I want everything with you… but maybe we should see if we can even fit dating into our schedules?"

She groaned. "I won't know what my rotation will look like for sure till sometime tomorrow –"

"We'll make it work," he promised. "Somehow. This, us, it's too important not to."

It was already past one when they dressed and he walked her to the subway station, a little subdued and clingy, his head resting against hers as they strolled arm in arm, bodies pressed tightly together. "You okay?" she asked softly.

"I told you I hate goodbyes –"

"It's not goodbye," Liv said. "You're just sending me home so I can go to work in the morning. And I'll text you like I've done every day since we started seeing each other. It isn't goodbye because we're still stuck on hello, Rafa…"

"Rafa?" he questioned with a soft smile.

"Mmmhmm, I like it," she said. "Suits you – it's softer than Raf, and it's all mine."

"It is," he agreed as they approached the entrance. "Hey," he said, pulling her to a stop and leaning in till they were only a breath apart. "Hello, Liv."

"Hello, Rafa," she replied, kissing him gently. "Te amo."

"Te amo, mi amor," he said, running his fingers through her hair. He insisted, "Please try to get a little rest before work."

"You, too," she murmured. "I'll text you when I get home."

She broke away from him, wishing that the time would come when she wouldn't have to leave him, and hurried through the turnstiles and down to the platform just in time to catch the 2 uptown. She settled back and sighed, knowing that wish fulfillment came at a horrific cost.

She had been at her desk for nearly an hour by the time Elliot rolled in, looking grumpy and rumpled. "Well, aren't you a sight for sore eyes," he groused. "Would've thought Cragen would've said something about you coming back today –"

"Maybe it's a surprise," Liv quipped with a smirk. "I made a pot of coffee and threw my twenty in the collection pot already. You look like you could use some."

"Eli decided to stay up most of the night, and Kathy decided to punish me for working overtime last week," he rejoined with a sigh. "Coffee would be great."

She got up and headed to the break room, made him a mug of coffee and headed back cheerfully. "How is the little guy?" she asked.

"Loud," he replied. "Great. I mean… don't get me wrong, I love being a dad and all, but damn, my kids are loud."

"They're your kids," she reminded him.

"You're going to be doomed when you have kids," he warned. "Bad Ass Benson's babies are going to be loud, obnoxious little things with more energy and force of will than anything this world has ever seen…"

She felt a sudden pang deep inside: would Rafael want kids? She wanted to be a mother more than anything, and she wanted a life with him, but would he want to start that journey with her? Was it too soon to bring it up? Was it already too late to tell him how much she wanted to have a baby of her own to love? Shit.

"Liv, you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine – sorry, was miles away," she said.

"Yeah, no kidding," Elliot said. "I asked how Brooklyn was and you were like off in la-la land over there."

"I didn't get a lot of sleep last night," Liv dismissed with a sigh. "I had a date when I got off-shift and I didn't get home till late."

"Oh, now, that's more interesting than Brooklyn SVU," he replied with a grin. "Tell me all."

"Not likely. I don't need you going off to beat up my potential boyfriend because you think he's unworthy of my time," she said, rolling her eyes. He dropped it and they got to work on his paperwork and case work from the last week when it had gotten so backed up.

The rest of the squad slowly rolled in and greeted her, and then Munch and Fin headed out on a case. She and Elliot were next on rotation, but she stopped short when a young woman breezed in carrying a bud vase with a single red rose in it, a bag from her favorite bakery, and a cup from Starbucks. "Hi, I'm looking for Detective Benson?"

"I'm Detective Benson," Olivia said.

"Hi, I'm Gretchen from Open Door Delivery. Will you sign here, please, stating that you've received the delivery items as notated in bullet points on the sheet?"

Olivia blinked and signed the sheet, then took possession of the items. Inside the bakery bag was a card written in Rafael's florid, yet scratchy cursive, that said, "Te amo, mi mujer rudo," along with a chocolate croissant and a blueberry ricotta crepe. The Starbucks was, according to the invoice, a grande americano, and the red rose bordered on burgundy, the color of the blood in her beating heart.

"Is that from your boy toy?" Elliot asked, arching a brow.

Liv bit her lip and murmured, "Yeah… he's a good man, El."

"We'll see," he muttered.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Just that I've never seen you stick it out with a guy –"

"I've never had anyone that was worth sticking it out for," she said with no small amount of annoyance in her tone. "He's worth it."

"You meet him at SVU?"

"No," she said automatically. It wasn't exactly a lie: Barba was with the Kings County DA, not SVU. Semantics.

"Well, at least he has that going for him," Elliot said. "But did he have to get you Starbucks?"

"It's the only decent place that does pickup around here," she reminded him. "For being so modern a city, we really do lack in innovation. Brooklyn has more pickup and delivery options than Manhattan, by far –"

"I'm sure you'd know," he grumbled.

"Yeah, I got fond of this one little coffee shop… but I'll shut up now," she said. "Want the croissant? If I eat both of these, I'll spoil lunch."

"Sure," Elliot said, taking the croissant and sighing. "How come he's sending you treats at work, anyway?"

"Because he's a nice guy," Liv replied. Because he misses me. Because he loves me. Because I can't come home with him tonight and climb into bed with him. Because we're so close and yet so far away…

"A single rose? I mean, I'm poor and I can afford a dozen for Kathy."

Liv smiled; Rafael somehow knew that she wouldn't have wanted an overly demonstrative display of extravagance to prove to others that he was trying to win her. Not when he already had her so tightly by the heartstrings in a way that she couldn't escape. A single red rose was more than enough.

"Elliot… it's not about quantity. It's all about quality." She ate her crepe quickly and drank the coffee, then shot off a quick text to Rafael: three little words that meant all the world to them both.

I love you.

TBC...