"You look happy," Stone remarked as Olivia entered his office. It was a rarity for her to come even close to happiness in that space with him, and not just because of the gravity of their usual meetings. There was a knot that would often appear in her stomach when she let herself acknowledge that the room which should have held Barba's things, Barba's presence, now held something very different. "Do you know something I don't?"
She did, of course. But not about the case that they were meeting about before heading into court that morning. What she knew was that Barba was home and that instead of a knot her stomach was humming with butterflies and that if she got her way then at the first opportunity she got she'd be kissing him until they couldn't breathe. (She'd thought of little else since she'd left him the night before, and it had taken every ounce of self-control she possessed to not drag him out of bed that morning when she'd dropped off Noah's bag.)
Thankfully when she and Stone got down to it she found she was able to focus on her work just fine, with the happiness and excitement of her personal life being converted to energy, to fuel. Though she knew she was smiling too much, and just couldn't help it.
She smiled all the more when at 11:55 she received a text. You free for a call?
Headed into recess. Give me 5.
Her phone vibrated in her hand just as she was exiting the courtroom. "You do realize you don't have to phone me at noon now that you're back," she teased, voice full of affection.
"I didn't have to phone you while I was gone, either," Barba reminded her warmly. "I have on occasion been known to do things just because I WANTED to, you know."
"Oh, I know. And I'm looking forward to getting to know it better." Hearing him clear his throat, she giggled coyly, ducking her head and lowering her voice. "You okay, Counselor?"
"Oh, I'll manage." And after a moment of recovery, he shot back, "You, on the other hand, appear to be going full-on school-girl there, Lieutenant."
"I am not!"
"Liv, you're literally twirling your hair on your finger. Which is really adorable, by the way."
She stood up straight and cast her eyes around the room, spotting him leaning on a window sill near the exit. It took a lot of effort to saunter instead of skip as she pocketed her phone and made her way over to him. "What are you doing here?"
Casual was an effort for both of them.
"Noah made it to school in time for pizza, but insisted on packing YOU a lunch." He passed her the brown bag, purposefully avoiding their fingers touching.
"Oh, NOAH insisted, did he?"
"I may be guilty of planting the idea. I thought a lunch bag might be less conspicuous than flowers."
Even the comparison to that kind of gesture caused the butterflies to swarm. "You are the picture of restraint and decorum."
"Unlike you," he teased.
She was twirling her hair again, and when he smirked at her she realized it and stopped. "Yes, unlike me, apparently. Maybe we should get out of here before my reputation takes a nosedive. Walk me to my office?"
"Yes, because your reputation will be safer there." But he fell into step when she tucked her hand into the crook of his arm, an innocuous position that they'd assumed dozens of times throughout the course of their acquaintance, occasionally when leaving this very building. As they walked they spoke of Noah, how he had slept in just long enough that Barba wasn't quite a zombie despite still feeling the effects of the time change. They spoke of how cute the boy had been that morning, asking to stay in bed and snuggle and review Eddie's Instagram feed together. (It was then that Barba had noticed the picture that Olivia had added the night before, and the teasing and sweet comments left by his friends back in Washington, the greetings for Noah.) They spoke of the case, her testimony that morning, the defense tactic that had nearly sunk her before she'd brilliantly (Barba's assessment, which had echoed Stone's) recovered. Normal, commonplace, comfortable conversation.
How could everything have changed when nothing had changed?
As they stepped out of the crowded elevator (a flimsy excuse to stand so close, to press against each other's sides, her fingers still curled at his elbow), Barba asked, "Need me to count to ten before I sneak in after you?"
"As if you haven't walked me to my office a million times before."
"That was when I had a reason."
"You HAVE a reason. You brought me my lunch."
It turned out no sneaking was necessary anyway. The bullpen was far from vacant but her squad was blessedly absent.
She sat behind her desk with him across from her, making quick work of her lunch though they lingered over the container of cherry tomatoes which she generously shared. Their thing. And she had no illusions that he hadn't packed them with that in mind.
Olivia received a text that needed immediate attention, and Barba just watched her as she booted up her laptop to chase down a needed file.
And the task complete, she caught him watching. "Something you'd like to share with the class?"
"Well..." He warred with himself for a moment, but eventually gave in to honesty, as risky as it felt. "I was actually just thinking that you are a very beautiful woman."
She flushed happily. "Flattery will get you absolutely everywhere. Just so we're clear." But after a fond look she found herself eying him critically. "You seem kind of torn about it. Is it the earrings?" A joke to draw him out, but it wasn't necessary. He rarely had an issue with honesty, not with her. And now that she'd demonstrated she wasn't opposed to his line of thought, he was feeling a little more secure about sharing it.
"I may have been admiring you AND chatisting myself a bit."
"About what?"
"It just feels kind of dishonouring to our friendship and you as a woman to be suddenly... 'Objectifying' isn't the right word."
He looked to her for help, but she just raised an eyebrow and said, "Go on." She was obviously enjoying his discomfort. Or, moreso, the admissions couched within it.
"Well... It's no secret that I've seen you in various states of undress over the years. Yet now you're fully dressed, but I find myself... preoccupied. And it just feels very strange to be looking at you and and letting myself think about you that way."
Olivia was apparently untroubled by it, unable to fight the full, wide grin that had overtaken her features. "Would affirmative consent help?"
He barked a laugh. "It couldn't hurt."
"And how about commiseration?" She came around her desk and perched on the edge, just outside of his reach. "To settle your concerns, I am willing to admit to being similarly preoccupied." His expression in response made her roll her eyes, but she still added, "Even if you weren't wearing the hell out of those jeans, I'd still want to kiss that proud smirk right off you face."
A small cough. "I...would not be opposed to that." And then they were both chuckling and he was getting to his feet, standing before her close enough that the toes of their shoes were touching. "So, we're really doing this, huh?" His tone was light, but Olivia caught the uncertainty in his eyes.
After a long pause, she drew a steadying breath. "Well...I've had six weeks to think about this. And it turns out by the way that despite our arguments otherwise six weeks really IS a long time."
"No kidding."
"Yeah, I'd rather us not do that again." Her hand came to rest on his cheek, a tender action, before it slipped around and her nails raked lightly at his hairline, causing him to shiver. "Anyway, I just wanted to be clear that I..." She sighed at her inability to find the right words. "I guess I just need need you to understand that… whatever this thing between us is stretching into now, what I really need is what we had before."
"What you need is to stop doing what you're doing to my neck if you're hoping we can unring the bell here." His joke fell flat when it was obvious he thought that was exactly what she was suggesting.
Her hand left his neck, sliding down his shoulder and arm soothingly, catching his fingers in her own. "Calm down, Rafa. Just because I want to hang on to what we had doesn't mean I'm not open to seeing where something new might take us." Her shy smile was nearly his undoing. Amazing how he could reduce her to this after all they'd been through.
Soothed, relieved, and ridiculously happy, Barba wasn't so far gone that he missed what she was actually trying to express. "Best friends first," he affirmed. "Always. No matter what." When had the lump appeared in his throat? He squeezed her hand. "Olivia, I am just so..."
"Sentimental?" They shared a grin. "Do the rules still apply now? Do we still have to stop when you get all mushy?"
"Actually, I'm thinking drunk, horny and sentimental should probably be the prerequisite for all substantial conversation moving forward."
"Well, then, we should put a pin in this until another time, because I'm not going to start day-drinking at work." She glanced behind him. "And, if I'm not mistaken, we're about to be interrupted." A meaningful look, a final press of her fingers, and she took a small step away, breaking contact.
Fin knocked on the open door before breezing inside. "Hey, Counselor. Good to see you."
"You too, Sargeant." The men shook hands.
"Sorry Liv, but Carisi and Amanda picked up the guy from yesterday; they're on their way through with him now. I thought you'd want to take first crack at him."
"Thanks, Fin. Let him sweat a bit and I'll be back in a few."
"Will do." He clapped Barba on the shoulder. "Don't be a stranger."
As she walked with him slowly toward the elevator, Barba spoke up. "I hope you don't mind, but I talked to Lucy earlier. She said she could come over whenever and stay until 9:30 tonight. I know it doesn't give us a lot of time, but I thought maybe after you tucked Noah in you might be up for a late dinner."
"Like, a date?"
He smiled sheepishly. "I know. Seems kind of late in the game for all that. But we might as well do this thing right." He gave her a sideways glance to gauge her reaction, and was pleased to see HER looking so pleased.
"As long as you don't mind going casual," she agreed easily. "I'm not sure I'll have time or energy to get dressed up."
"Hey, I'm wearing the hell out of these jeans. I'm good for casual."
The elevator car arrived, and it was empty. They both hesitated, and then he pulled her inside after him, slapping the floor number and "Close Door" buttons in quick succession before he backed her against the wall and claimed her lips with his own.
Her hands slipped inside his jacket, her arms drawing him flush against her, making him smile against her busy mouth. But then he couldn't help but pull back slightly to tease, "Aren't you going to tell me to stop trying to make out with you?"
His clever and fitting call-back to previous foolishness delighted her. "No. Aren't you going to say we should have a conversation about this first?"
"I think we've done enough talking for the time being, don't you?"
Her kiss was her agreement.
They only had two floors of privacy and Barba was slow to pivot away when the door opened and they were no longer alone, but they were joined by strangers, civilians, who barely acknowledged them. Olivia allowed him to take a small step away but they still faced each other, still had their hands on each other. She ran a thumb along his lower lip to remove the faint hue of her lipstick before meeting his eyes and being struck by the raw tenderness she found there.
Based on his earlier confession of preoccupation, based on the way her hips had cradled his during their brief indiscretion, she might have expected to see lust in his intent gaze instead. It warmed her to her toes that his preoccupation was not limited to her body. She could certainly relate.
He kissed her again as they reached the ground floor, brief and sweet. "Call me later," he said simply, but she heard "I love you". And that's what he meant.