Author's Note- Welcome to my newest story. It is going to be a fairly long one planned. Been working on it for quite a bit. I do appreciate the bunch of you that read my stuff and I thank you for the reviews and ideas. I do want to put out a warning that this fanfic is rated M for sexual themes, language, violence, rape (Not explicit. More like a episode of SVU. Autopsy things and mentions that will further the plot),BDSM. It is Barson fic. If that is not your thing, feel free to skip this fic. There is so many awesome Bensler and others out there. This takes place season 14 after Twenty Five Acts. Feel free to contact me for any comments, questions, suggestions.
Rafael held the scotch in his hand, his wrist moving in circular motions, watching the liquid swirl in the glass. Placing the glass on the table in front of him, he ran his fingers through his hair and turned his neck from side to side, stretching out the stiff muscles. Finally taking a break from his pile of work that had spread out over his coffee table. There was two hours of work down, two to go, then he would retire for the rest of the night. His own invented agenda for himself. It was mostly reviewing statements and preparing his cross-examination for court later that week. This was his normal ritual since law school. He called it organized chaos. He leaned back on the leather couch, looking up to the ceiling above, the fan hitting cool air at him. It was getting late, again.
Since being is Special Victims most nights were becoming late ones. His so-called lateral move had piled a higher workload on him, and he wasn't sure that he was ready for. Of course, he would never let anyone ever know that. Hoping that the payoff would be worth it all in the end is what kept him going. He knew it wasn't going to be easy, but Special Victims had its own challenges.
A knock on the door interrupted him from his thoughts.
He made his way across from the couch and to the door to his apartment. The hardwood cool against his bare feet. He wasn't expecting anyone this late. At this time of night, he was dressed down, wearing his white cotton undershirt and flannel pajama bottoms. He didn't order anything from a food delivery app, and he really didn't have friends that would stop in so unexpectedly. Please don't let it be a drunk pedestrian puking at his doorway Rafael silently hoped. Months back he had the misfortune to have a frat boy staining the carpets in the hall. The young adult obviously slushed and lost. How he got up to the third floor was the real question.
The person on the other end knocked again. This time more deliberate as if the first time they had been too soft.
"I'm coming." He loudly spoke. He didn't need his visitor pounding on the door more, leading to his nosy neighbors to piss off.
He looked through the peak hole. There stood Detective Olivia Benson from Special Victims Unit. Rafael didn't know how he felt about her just yet. He was still trying to get a feel for her. They had only started working together for a few months. She was a strong-willed woman who would go to the end and back for the victims. He respected her for that. She was also a pain in the ass sometimes because of how stubborn she could be. He was amused by that. Rafael knew he could come off the same way and that their personalities were oddly similar.
He opened the door halfway.
"Detective Benson. So what do I owe the pleasure of tonight's visit? Is the great NYPD in need of another warrant?" He smirked slightly knowing that his answer was laced with sarcasm. He noticed that she was wearing the same outfit that she wore at the precinct, this meaning that her night had not ended yet.
"Barba, we need to talk." Her voice was serious, which was normal in a usual day working with her, but something seemed a little off.
"And this couldn't wait until tomorrow?" He began to reply turning around, heading inside, hope she would take the subtle hint to follow him into the apartment. He hated when people had huge long drawn out conversations in the hallway.
"Your name is on this list." It stopped him in his tracks turning back around. Right in front of him she held a collection of papers. He looked closely seeing his name fairly close to the top of the list. Those names. All familiar. His expression changed. Everything in his body tensed.
"Where did you get this?" Rafael knew what they were. How would the Sergeant of SVU have them in her possession? His once averagely boring evening turned upside down.
His response had confirmed that he was aware what the list was for. She had to skip past the pleasantries. She wanted to be upfront with him. This becoming an official investigation.
"At a crime scene. A homicide."
TBC