XIV:
He knew the alarm was going to go off soon. He knew that they would have to get moving and ready to start the day. Rafael just couldn't bring himself to care. Not when he was spooned against Liv, thrusting into her with low, heavy strokes that made his entire body thrum with bliss.
She had woken him from a dead sleep in the grip of a night terror, and once calmed, all she had wanted was to be held, touched, loved… And she even then moved his hand from her thigh to her clit, grumbling something under her breath.
"Excuse me?" he grunted against her shoulder, nipping lightly with his teeth.
"I'm almost there and then you slow down and I lose it," Liv whined softly. "Can you just –"
He felt a small stab at his ego, his manly pride, for that, but then he shook it off. And he added his fingers to the accompaniment they were attempting. It was only what felt like a few moments before she was rocking against him with far more enthusiasm and the rhythm of his stroking fingers felt like an unholy guitar strumming.
The first notes of the alarm set them off, startling them into a tensely explosive orgasmic release that had Olivia laughing weakly and had him wondering if he was just too old for morning quickies because dear lord, he'd almost blacked out. He silenced the alarm and kissed her senseless, tucking her hair back behind her ears and smiling, wondering how he had ever gotten so lucky – how she had ever come back to him.
"Good morning," Rafael whispered. "Shower?"
She still had a soft flush all over her body from her climax, and he found it the most arousing, the most invigorating thing, that he had ever seen – and it was all for him. "Yeah," Liv murmured. "Let me get up and moving and I'll join you in a second. It's going to be weird going back to work today."
"Good weird or bad weird?" he asked, getting out of bed and walking across the room naked to grab his boxer briefs for the day out of the dresser.
"Just… weird." She was sitting on the bed, the covers pooled around her, his sweatshirt the only thing she had on. He felt an inordinate amount of contentment knowing that she was comfortable with him and his things, that they had meshed together so well and so quickly. "Do you want me to pick something up on my way home for dinner?"
"I could take you out," he said softly.
"You don't have to," she replied.
Rafael knew she still wasn't quite up for going out yet, so he hung his underwear jauntily off his fingertip and said, "How about I pick something up at the grocery on my way home and cook us up a little bit of yum… and we can worry about going out later? Plan a date night for when you're feeling up to it."
"Good idea," she said. "Maybe Friday?"
"Saturday," he corrected. "I've got to go to Jo-jo's orchestra thing Friday night." He paused. "You're coming with me. Right? I mean as my date –"
"Rita won't pitch a fit?" she asked. She got up and padded across the room to put her arms around him.
"Quite frankly, at this point, Rita can get over it," he muttered.
She gave him a kiss and murmured, "Shower, Rafa. I'll get the coffee started and join you."
He rolled his eyes and made his way into the bathroom while she went to the kitchen. He got started cleaning himself up and waited for her to join him like she'd promised; it was usually the highlight of the morning. That particular morning didn't seem to be any exception to the rule: she made quite a pretty picture as she joined him in the glass shower stall, all warm planes of skin and soft curves meant to be touched and felt and desired.
"You're a goddess," Rafael said in stark awe.
Liv laughed at him and reached for her body wash. "Yeah, if we're talking Hera – old and crank," she said wryly. "Pass my loofa, Rafa."
"You're not that much older than I am," he protested.
"Two years is a long time," she said very quietly, looking down at her frothy sponge. "Sorry. Don't mind me – I just…"
He shook the suds out of his hair and pulled her close, anchoring her to him. "It doesn't matter: I love you no matter what time is between us, Liv. I look in your eyes and see myself reflected back at me – and I think… god, why would you split us apart for so long?"
"So we can appreciate each other," she said barely above the rise and fall of the water.
"So we could learn to love," he breathed.
She smiled and gave him another kiss – feather-light and sweet – on the lips. "Better get moving," Liv sighed. "Or we'll be late."
He rolled his eyes. "Worried about that already, Benson?"
She smirked at him. "You better believe it, Barba. I want to take over SVU, not sit on my ass talking a good game about how I could do better than the lawyers."
"Low blow, hot stuff," he growled, patting her ass lightly. "I have half a mind to –"
"To what?"
"Nothing," he said, shaking his head. "Let me help you wash your hair, babe."
"Uh, Mr. Barba?" Carmen said, clearing her throat as she knocked on his office door and poked her head in.
"Yeah." He glanced up from his notes. As far as he was aware, he didn't have anything pending until a department meeting at three, and he'd planned to use the time to organize some of his thoughts on the Manuel Zoretz case, which was, quite frankly, a mess.
"Do you have time for a walk-in?" she inquired.
He raised a brow. His assistant kept his schedule; the fact that she was inquiring as to whether or not he had the time for a walk-in was more than slightly unnerving. "I might," he said cautiously. "I had thought about stepping out for lunch –"
Carmen bit her lip nervously and said, "Your political ambitions are –"
"My walk-in wouldn't happen to be Alejandro Muñoz?" Rafael inquired, a sinking feeling in his gut beginning to creep in.
"No," she said. "No… it's his wife."
The sinking feeling became a freefall plummet, jerked into an icy plunge that made him alarmingly sick to his stomach. The only thing that saved him was the thought that Olivia would be annoyed if he had to do more laundry this week already because the lady in 4D was handsy and followed him down to the laundry room. "I – yeah." He took a deep breath, tried to clear his head. "Carmen, the only thing worse than Yelina knowing that I'm anxious about seeing her is keeping her waiting out there," he pointed out grimly, gesturing to the outer office with a swipe of his thumbnail. "So yeah, I have time for a walk-in." He paused for a long moment, then added, "But if you wanted to call Olivia to rescue me, I wouldn't be opposed."
"Yeah that's not happening unless I want to witness a crime," Carmen said. "And when Mrs. Muñoz leaves, you and I are going to make a list of people who might just… say… randomly drop by your office and casually scare the crap out of me."
"Good talk," Rafael said quickly as she disappeared and he steeled himself against the inevitable. He steadied his breathing and cleared his mind, but Olivia flashed past his mind like a butterfly, jerking him back to reality with a thump.
"Hola, Rafi," Yelina said softly as she came into his office.
"Yelina," he said warily. "I didn't answer his summons so he sent you instead?"
She licked her lips and looked down at her feet for a moment. "I went by your place but they said it's in the middle of a legal dispute."
"I should be disturbed by the fact that you thought that going to my home was a smart move," he said. "Considering our history."
"You didn't exactly leave a forwarding address with your landlord," she pointed out.
"Fucking boundaries, Yelina!" he yelped. "If not my ex and the press, it's you and Alex –"
She held up a hand to placate him, but the gesture had the opposite effect: it enraged him instead. "You should hear him out, Rafi," Yelina said softly. "He's offering you far more than the city ever could. Far more than the DA's office –"
"It's not about money and power," Rafael said, rising to his feet and putting his desk chair between them. "So he can keep offering: I'll keep refusing."
"It's about your ego then?" she said. "The fact that I chose Alex over you?"
Rafael exhaled roughly. "You know what, Yelina? I used to love both of you. Or I thought I did. Turns out that I didn't know what love really was, and I had to live through a lot of shit to find out. Including losing both of you. You can play that card: it might sting a little because it used to hurt. But I grew up. There's more to life than living in the shadow of someone who thinks that making a difference is all about keeping up appearances and less to do with changing lives."
She had always been beautiful to a fault; that had been what had attracted him to her initially when they were children. He had never been able to resist a shiny object. And even in the moment when her beauty went ugly with a sneer, Rafael saw the fragile girl she had once been, who he had adored so much. "Oh please," Yelina snorted. "As if you do anything in your glass office, throwing stones – I'm offering you the chance to come back to us, Rafael. The Three Musketeers of Jerome Avenue –"
Rafael rolled his eyes and blew her off. "Fuck you," he hissed. "Eddie might have bought your shit, your bribes and your games, but I'm not for sale."
The juxtaposition of Yelina's edges and Liv's softness was jarring to him. The idea that he could ever have loved someone so calculating was almost cruel. And that she stared at him with such pity almost made him back down. "You know he watches for you on TV," Yelina said, her tone small and hurt. "And tells me how good you look. How much he misses you. How much he wants you back."
"You think emotional blackmail is going to sway me to your side?" he asked with a bark of laughter. "Please."
"Emotional blackmail?" Yelina shot back. "You think that's what this is? You're alone, Rafi, and we're offering you a family – a home. All you have to do is say yes and be Alex's right hand. My right hand."
He nearly flung the chair across the room, but he kept himself in check, barely moving a muscle. "Again," Rafael said, his tone low and dangerous, "fuck you." When she didn't react but to stare at him, he shook his head. "Get out."
"Rafael –"
"I said get out," he repeated. When she turned to leave, he added, "You tell him, Yelina, that if he wants me so badly, he'd better come find me himself so I can slam the door in his face."
"You ungrateful bastard," she murmured. "You could be something – "
"Enough," Rafael declared. "You want to invalidate my achievements as if leaving the ghetto is nothing. As if graduating from Harvard is nothing. As if fighting for my place in the world is nothing. You want what you want without regard for anyone else – and I am done playing by your rules." He turned his back on her, staring out his office window, praying she would just leave.
The door finally clicked behind her, and he nearly dropped to the floor in relief. The painful roiling in his stomach left him in doubt of whether or not he was going to vomit, and he clung to the back of the chair to steady himself. Finally, he took a deep breath and sat down, putting his head in his hands at the desk.
His cellphone vibrated and he flipped it over, looking at the text with a sad smile on his lips.
I love you. I miss you. I hope you're having a boring day.
He waited a long moment, then replied.
I was until you texted. You are the sunshine of my soul, Olivia.
Rafael leaned back in his chair and took a deep breath. The last time he had forced himself to deal with the trauma of his failed relationship with Alejandro and Yelina, he had spiraled nearly into oblivion. Rita had been the one to save him then, and only because she had been on a downslide herself. In spite of his bravery in Yelina's face, he still felt like he was shouldering the burdens of his broken soul alone. What would Olivia think of him, of his inner darkness, if he showed her the weak man he truly was? How close he was to giving in and harkening back to his old ways?
His phone rang and he reached for it. "Barba."
"You're very cute," Olivia murmured.
"I mean it," Rafael whispered, his voice rasping over unshed tears. "You make me a better man, Olivia –"
"Hey, none of that," she said. "What happened?"
"I can't talk about it right now." He picked at the edge of the ink blotter. "Tonight. We'll talk about it tonight."
"You gonna be okay till then?" she asked, the worry in her tone making his gut ache.
"Yeah," Rafael whispered. "I'll be fine."
She brought home dinner from a taco truck by the precinct that served birria that Liv claimed was "to die for", and he wasn't about to dim her enthusiasm with his sour mood. She'd get enough of that when she walked into the apartment and caught sight of him.
Rafael had finished his work day and come home to change into sweatpants and a hoodie, and barefoot, he had buried himself beneath a blanket that smelled like them – like home, safety, comfort. He knew it was irrational, that he was spiraling, letting his fears win again, but the idea of losing Liv sat along his spine like an ever-present knot and made him nauseated.
"Fin said to say hey," Liv called out as she came into the apartment, flicking on the hall light. The smell of cumin and tomato, cilantro and meat and chiles made his mouth water even as he squirmed away from it. "You know you can swing by and bring me coffee or lunch if you want –"
"Yeah," he agreed weakly.
She kicked off her boots and appeared in the living room. "Rafa?"
"I'm sorry," he whispered.
"For what?" Liv asked, sinking onto the couch next to him, paper bags of food laden in hand. "What happened, honey?"
He shook his head and closed his eyes. "I… I – had a meeting with Yelina Muñoz today."
She set the bags down on the coffee table. "Okay."
He wanted to explain but didn't have the words to make her understand. "Alex is offering me a job."
"He's pretty confident he's going to win the election," Liv commented. "Can't really blame him – his numbers are good." She paused and eyed him. "I didn't know you had that kind of relationship, though."
Rafael shrugged. "Not for a long time," he said, his voice hollow, ringing in his ears.
She exhaled heavily, placed the palms of her hands on her thighs. "Well… we should eat before the tacos get cold," she said softly. "And then we'll decide whether or not you're taking that job."
"I'm not taking his fucking handouts," Rafael all but snarled. "Like I can't get anything I want on my own –"
"Whoa, down boy," she murmured, reaching out to placate him. Her touch immediately settled him. "Deep breath, honey. I love you and I'm not going anywhere, okay? We're going to eat dinner and talk this through."
He swiped at the angry tears that had gathered in his eyes and muttered, "Yeah. Okay."
He ate a couple of tacos and picked his way through some frijoles and arroz before she pushed the issue. "You were in love with her," Liv said softly. "Yelina."
Rafael sighed and shoved the container away. "Both of them," he grunted. "But she made a choice, and it wasn't me. She chose the man who would stay tied to el barrio, who would give her fat babies and little dreams that might come true. Not the workaholic who couldn't even admit that he had been sexually assaulted. But whenever they want something… they don't hesitate to prey on me, manipulate me, because they think I'm still that fragile boy they attempted to mold."
He looked up when he felt Liv's hand slip into his. "You're stronger than you know," she whispered.
He leaned against her, seeking the comfort he knew she would provide if he asked. "I could only think of coming home to you," he whispered. "She kept saying I was alone and I wanted to scream she was a liar, but –"
"You're not alone," Liv murmured, wrapping him up tightly in her arms. "You're mine. I dare either of them to come anywhere near you on my watch, Barba." She kissed his neck and held on. "I love you. Okay? What happened before… it's who we used to be. It's not who we are now. We can only be better now, right?" She ruffled his hair, messing it up. "And, so help me, if I get a chance, I'm gonna smack that bitch for making you cry."
He bit back a laugh. "Liv –"
"You think I'm kidding? They won't give me my gun yet but I'll sure as hell whack a bitch," she swore. "No one makes Rafael Barba cry… except me."
He blushed. "You're never going to let me live that down, are you?"
"That you get particularly emotional when you have sex? Never," she murmured. A tiny smile crossed her lips. "You'd better bawl when our firstborn is laid in your hands."
He'd fucking cry on command. "Olivia… if we have a child, I'll be completely overwhelmed," he promised. "Believe me."
"They better be happy tears," she said.
"Siempre," he whispered, leaning in to kiss her.
When they parted, she murmured, "I'm still going to fuck that bitch up."
"Did I say I was going to stop you?" he laughed. "Just don't jack yourself up so you've got to go back to the hospital, woman. You can't pay for that."
She laughed and tucked her face into his shoulder. "I swear… what am I going to do with you? We're gonna be 85 and you're still gonna be a pain in my ass."
"Mmm, won't that be nice?" he hummed softly, closing his eyes, a hazy vision of an elderly version of them sat in front of the fireplace dancing across his sight before it vanished into nothingness.
"Yeah," she breathed. "Yeah, it will."
TBC...