She doesn't think anything of it as Barba and Calhoun walk into the precinct side by side, merely quirking a smile at Fin's comment "What? You two carpool?" as Rita demands to see her client and Rafael sweeps into her office with a rough smile. Even the repeat tie hanging on Barba's chest doesn't particularly incite her interest - it had been a long week, who could blame the man for wearing the same thing twice. But it's the peak of lipstick in his hairline that she can't stop staring at, the shade matching exactly that she had watched the Defence councillor reapply not an hour ago. Barba is looking at her like she's mad, whispering a simultaneously concerned and annoyed "what?" her way as they watch the interrogation. Or more precisely, as he watches the interrogation and she watches him.
She didn't think of it often, Barba having a sex life. Or at least, she tried not to think of it. There were times at the beginning of their relationship when she'd find her mind wandering, helped along by a loud Melinda after a couple of wines or a tipsy Amanda at that first Christmas party. The Barba she knew then was attractive with his sharp suits, quick tongue, and steadfast arrogance. The Rafael she knows now is attractive for much more dangerous reasons - his probing eyes, soft murmurs, and subtle head tilts.
She won't say she's jealous, that would be a foolish notion, but as she watches the battle of wits Barba and Calhoun fire at each other throughout the day, her stomach twists tightly and she's filled with some desperate carnal need to pull them apart, reinsert herself into this picture.
...
She hadn't forgotten about it, that stray lipstick mark. But it'd been weeks and aside from the increased prevalence of wayward thoughts regarding her favourite ADA, it was business as usual. Until the accusation. Until Ms Calhoun was implicated in a crime. Until Barba casually jutted out his chin and threw her alibi out there in the middle of the bullpen "Rita was… shall we say, otherwise engaged, at that time."
Four pairs of eyes swivelled onto him sharply. Rollins leant forward, "We're talking a date four months ago Barba, you sure you don't want to corroborate that claim?" He smiled tightly with somewhat gritted teeth, "Positive." "So you're telling me that you know for a fact that at 4:02am on that Wednesday morning four months ago, Rita Calhoun was in a situation that absolutely definitively prevented her from making the tip-off phone call? That's a big call to make Counsellor." Barba pushed his eyes closed tight in an effort to not roll them at the Detective and waved for them to follow him into Olivia's office. Once the door was shut he stood straight and, looking steadfast at a spot somewhere between Rollins and Fin. "My birthday. The Tuesday night, Bets and I - sorry, Rita and I - had… drinks. We did not return to my apartment until after 3am and trust me when I say that at 4:02am she was not reaching for a phone to call some conman about a prison bust, she was… a little busy."
Fin caught the stunned look on Olivia's face, the slight blush on her cheeks and the deep swallow as she raked her eyes over Barba. "So you and Rita, are what, dating?" The way Fin pushed out that final word came out as a mix of disgust and pain and Rollins couldn't help the small smirk that appeared on her face. Steadfast as ever but with eyes finally engaged Barba turned his attention to the other man, "Rita and I are friends." Fin raised his hands in mock surrender and roughed out a "Sure thing Counsellor, whatever you say."