VII:

As an only child, Rafael had never understood the appeal of a big family. He liked having his space, his things, everything in its place, clearly defined, no margin for errors. It was a compulsion leftover from childhood, when his father had militantly drilled into him that any kind of disorder would not be tolerated and any deviation from cleanliness and order and any slovenliness of appearance would be met with brutal force.

Other children would only have brought disorder, chaos…

The brutal culling of the herd at one child clearly had been an attempt at controlling an uncontrollable situation, since his father had eleven siblings, and fifty nieces and nephews. And his mother, likewise, had four sisters and seven nieces and nephews. It was one of the cousins on his mother's side – one of the sane ones, not so loud, not so obnoxious, that was getting remarried after being widowed young.

Eduardo's first wife, Ellen, had been Army, fought in Iraq after 9/11, and had died in one of the many failed campaigns. While Rafael was glad he had found someone else, the big wedding thing… it just seemed a bit much for a second wedding. That was his only quibble with the whole affair.

However, he did get to see Olivia letting her hair down a bit, and that… that he was grateful for. They had gotten off the plane and checked into the hotel only to change into bathing suits and head to the beach for a frolic in the ocean like children instead of nearly middle-aged adults. Dinner out of a food truck and a wander around the old neighborhood where most of his family lived had topped off the evening, and then they had retreated back to the hotel for some peace and quiet.

"Liv?"

"Mmm?"

"Thank you."

"For what?" she mumbled sleepily, burying her face in his shoulder as they cuddled up in bed.

"Coming with me. I don't know that I could do this without you."

"You don't have to do anything without me," she promised, rubbing his bare belly and drifting off to sleep.

He stayed awake, looking up at the ceiling, counting the ridges and wondering if he'd have to cut back on the coffee a little because sleep was constantly eluding him. He worried all the time: about work, about his mother and grandmother, about Olivia, about how their close their relationship was to falling apart altogether… And the lack of sleep just didn't help.

Now that her case had suddenly intersected with three of Brooklyn SVU's, and he was taking prosecutorial lead over all four cases, he had even more to worry about, toeing the line of working propriety within everyone's sight. Everything between them had to remain professional and above board at all times. No one could ever suspect for a second that anything was going on between them behind the scenes, or all of the case could be called into question.

1PP and the DA's offices could break them apart, and that was the last thing they wanted. Not when they both had, finally, found a modicum of peace in their lives.

She stirred out of sleep and murmured, "Hey… I can hear you thinking over there."

"Marry me," he blurted out. He didn't mean for the words to leave his lips, hell, to leave the recesses of his mind, but now that they had, he couldn't take them back. Nor did he want to.

She blinked awake completely. "Qué mierda, Rafa!"

"I mean, obviously not right away –"

"Rafael, what the actual fuck?" Liv said, her eyes wide with shock.

"You're opposed to the idea," he said very quietly. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to –"

"I'm not opposed," she interjected, putting her fingertips on his lips. "But… asking me in the middle of the night when I'm half asleep? That was your big plan?"

"I… I didn't exactly have a plan," he confessed. "By that, I mean I wasn't going to ask. Yet. Because we're not ready. It just slipped out."

She smiled a little and murmured, "Sounds like you were ready, Rafa."

"I just… I love you and I can't put that back in the box, mi amor," he sighed. "I –"

She tangled their fingers together and said, "Well… I love you, too, Rafael. And if it makes you feel better, when the time is right, yes… yes, I will marry you. But still, what the fuck kind of proposal was that anyway?"

"You said yes," he shot back.

"To save you the embarrassment of trying again."

"There would've been champagne and chocolates and –"

"All the gestures I don't need," she pointed out. "I don't need a ring. I don't need hollow, empty gestures. I just need you."

What did I do to deserve this woman? He didn't know, he didn't care, but he was damn well going to spend the rest of his life singing her praises and raising her to the skies.

Olivia wore a beautiful draping purple dress to the wedding that Raphael couldn't keep his eyes off of. "Hey, Rafa, eyes up here," she kept teasing him, "and hands in appropriate places – your mother is watching."

He groaned. "Mami is always watching," he reminded her. He had chosen a lavender tie and suspenders to match but contrast with her, a stark white shirt, and a navy three piece suit. He still felt out of place within his own family, knowing that he just had these items to choose from and did not have to rent them or go out and purchase them especially for the occasion. These were just normal, everyday things to him – nothing especially special.

But Liv… Liv was the accessory that was special. She was the most important piece of his life, and she had chosen – actually chosen – to become a part of his life and family permanently somewhere down the line. The thought made his inner heart smile with absolute glee, and he had to hide his outward smile, lest anyone else catch on and think he was actually happy to be there. Which he really wasn't.

The reception was already insane: alcohol flowed like water and the musical bass line pounded like an earthquake through the floor. Olivia rolled her eyes and kept close as he introduced her loudly to his relations and they introduced her to their friends and children and suddenly, he found himself face to face with his mother and grandmother.

"We wondered if you were ever going to get around to us," Lucia joked. "Olivia, it's nice to see you again – you look well."

"So do you, Mrs. Barba," Olivia said politely, giving her a kiss on the cheek. "I'm so sorry I had to run out on brunch the other week – we'll have to do lunch sometime when we're all back in New York and I'm not in the middle of a case."

Lucia waved dismissively. "I don't see my son anyway; why should I see you?"

The comment stung. "Mami, you know how important –"

"Yes, yes, I know how important your work is," she said. "But you could at least call."

He sighed. "Yes, Mami."

"Lucia, you're being too hard on him," Catalina said. "You know he works very hard to put away very bad people –"

"And so does Olivia," Rafael interjected.

Lucia huffed and muttered, "I need to go outside for a smoke."

Catalina rolled her eyes as Lucia walked away. "I keep telling her to quit, Rafi, but she won't listen to me –"

"She won't listen to me, either, abuelita," he pointed out. "This is Liv. I don't know what Mami's told you…"

"I won't repeat it," Catalina said.

Liv laughed sadly. "Well, that bodes well for the future, doesn't it, Rafa?"

Rafael sighed and ran his hand through his hair. "Abuelita, you can't say anything."

"Old lips are sealed," she promised.

"Nos vamos a casar," he said very quickly.

"Cuando? Que tan pronto?"

Liv came to the rescue. "Solo me preguntó anoche, abuelita," she said with a gentle smile.

"Oye, Rafi, she's pretty and speaks Spanish," Catalina said with a chuckle. "You're lucky, hijo."

"I am," Rafael agreed, smiling at Liv. "I really am."

"Now… you two go enjoy yourselves. Stop pretending you want to be with me in the corner all night! Dance!"

They did just that for most of the night, lost in their own little world, hoping never to give it up again, but knowing that it was going to end soon enough.

"We need a warrant," Stabler grunted.

Olivia was behind him, not looking very happy, her eyes tired and sad. "El –"

"What? I tried to get one through Paxton and she sent us to him." The word was barely veiled contempt and they all knew it. "So, I need a warrant for our suspect's apartment. We already had his clothes in evidence, DNA, the murder kit found at the crime scene in the Bronx three days ago – which I picked up, by the way, while you were partying it up in Miami."

"Elliot!" This time, Liv's interjection was sharper and had teeth.

"Dioses los cojones," Rafael muttered in annoyance, slamming a stack of files down on his desk. "You still don't have enough for me to get a warrant for his apartment. You have enough for his van, his workplace, but not his apartment. Get me something that ties the murders to his home, and we can talk, Stabler –"

"You know, you're a piece of work," Stabler ground out through clenched teeth.

"Stop it," Olivia snapped. "This is getting us nowhere. Counselor – what are we talking for crossover? A work-home laptop? A pad of paper that could be carried back and forth? A piece of clothing?"

"Something that clearly has been in both places," Rafael said firmly. "Nothing more, nothing less. And nothing flimsy."

She nodded and said, "We have his workboots – the mat outside his apartment door has muddy footprints that match the shape and size of the bootprints."

He paused and stared at her. "Will you swear an affidavit in court to that effect, Detective?"

"Absolutely – we've already taken the prints as part of the investigation and done a forensic match before we came to you," she said. "Is that enough or do you want more?"

"It's circumstantial, but it might be enough to sway one judge in particular if I can catch him before he leaves chambers for his AA meeting…" Rafael grabbed a handful of pretzels out of the bowl on his desk and gestured for them to sit. "Sit tight. Give me twenty."

As he left his office, he could hear her say, "You know, Elliot, you can stop punishing me for taking four days off any time now. I'm allowed vacation. And Barba is just doing his job: you can stop being an asshole."

Stabler's response was a muffled growl.

Rafael hurried up with his errand, secured the warrant, and came back to give it to them. "Now, go get what you need so we can nail this bastard to the wall," he said firmly. "I'm tired of dealing with your bad attitudes already."

Liv flashed him a tiny smile, her heart on her sleeve, and Stabler… the man could've ripped him apart with the glare on his face.

"You know, you're a real piece of work, Barba," he muttered.

"Maybe so," Rafael replied, "but I usually get my man."

"You'd better," Elliot said firmly. "This man… he's wily. He's cunning. If he gets out, gets loose, he'll do it again."

"So make sure he doesn't get out of your hands, and I'll make sure he doesn't escape the law, Detective Stabler," Rafael said firmly. "Go. Do your job."

By the time he got home, he was exhausted and frustrated. The extensive search of the apartment had yielded much more evidence and had pointed them toward the suspect they now had in custody, who was being charged with a total of five counts of murder and six of manslaughter in varying degrees depending on the crime scenes. Rafael was sick from the scenes and he could only imagine how the detectives were faring who had come across them in the months preceding. Olivia had been at two of the crime scenes – once in Brooklyn and once in Harlem, and she was unsettled by both.

She was sitting on his couch, eyes tired and face drawn, when he got home. "Hey," she said softly. "I brought my go bag. I told Cragan I was staying the night down here so I didn't have to make the commute back for the grand jury in the morning."

"You okay?" he whispered, giving her a hug as she got up and moved into his arms. "Your partner is a prick."

"He was –"

"He was out of control and put the entire case in jeopardy today. What the hell was he thinking?"

"One of his kids had an accident at school," Liv said, "and he was out working the case like it didn't matter. It takes a toll, Rafa – he's not normally such a jerk."

"In my experience, he's nothing but an arrogant bully who thinks that pushing everyone else around to get results is the only way to attain said results, but what do I know? Clearly you know him better," Rafael muttered. "Are you okay?" he repeated.

"I'm fine," she said softly. "Are you?"

"I'm tired," he sighed. "I need to sleep so I can arraign this los hijo de puta in the morning."

"Have I ever told you how sexy it is when you get upset and start swearing in Spanish because you think it's more polite to hide it from me?" she teased.

He laughed. "Olivia Benson, you naughty girl."

"Te amo, Rafa," she replied, waggling her eyebrows. "Oh… by the way, there's this big FBI sex crimes training seminar coming up in February."

"Yeah, I got booked in a while back," he said. "Since there aren't enough detectives to go around, they thought I might like to sit in."

"I, uh… might be leading one of the break-out rooms," she said. "Me and Fin."

"Congratulations!" he said with enthusiastic abandon. "Liv, that's – you're coming up the ladder, mi amor!"

She cleared her throat and murmured, "I mean… Raf. It's Vegas. And we'll both be there anyway. And you did ask me to, ah… marry you."

He stared at her. "I didn't mean in three months." He backpedaled when he saw the look on her face. "I mean, Liv… we've only been together –"

"It doesn't matter. I think this is it for me," Olivia said softly. "I want to be squabbling with you when I'm 85, Rafael."

His face softened into a gentle smile. "Wouldn't that be nice?" he whispered.

"It's all I want," she said softly, offering him her hand.

He took it and let her lead him to his bedroom, the quiet of the night overtaking them.

TBC...