XXVII:

"I could've gotten up," Liv murmured, coming up behind Rafael and resting her hand on his shoulder as he looked down into Noah's crib. He had been rubbing the baby's back soothingly since he'd laid him back to sleep a few minutes before and Noah had continued to roll around restlessly in the crib.

"You were asleep," Rafael said simply. "I wasn't."

"I'm awake now," she pointed out. "I can take over or –"

"He's down now," he said with a small smile thrown over his shoulder. "He's just a little anxious. I think he had a bad dream."

"That doesn't explain why you were up at two in the morning," she murmured. "Did you have a bad dream, Raf?" Her gentle touch suddenly felt confining, and he tried to pull away. "Hey, it's okay – I didn't mean anything by it. I just worry is all."

"I know you do," he sighed. "I didn't have a dream; it's hard to dream when you can't sleep. I was worried about falling asleep and not being able to hear you or Noah if you needed me and –"

"Baby, you've got to sleep," she soothed. "I love you so much, Rafa, but you've got to take care of you first so you can take care of us. Okay? Now come to bed and rest."

He turned and wrapped his arms around her, unsurprised when she stiffened, then relaxed. "I'm not sure I'll be able to sleep," Rafael admitted. "I'm tired, but I'm not sleepy tired, if that makes any sense."

"A little," she conceded. "You always get sleepy after you come – do you want me to –"

He groaned softly and closed his eyes. "Liv, I want you to stop thinking that sex is an obligation of being married to me," Rafael whispered. "¿Lo entiendes, mi amor? No me enamoré de ti por eso. No quiero que sientas que tienes que tener sexo para mantenerme feliz. No es justo para ti."

"You say that now," she said quietly. "You keep saying that like you mean it, but I don't know any man that would sacrifice sex to keep a relationship –"

"Olivia," he said, his voice low with earnest, "lo que quiero es irrelevante."

"But it isn't," she protested. "Lo siento mucho si te hice sentir de esa manera, Rafael. Sus necesidades no son irrelevantes."

"We shouldn't be arguing about this in front of the baby, even if he is asleep," Rafael pointed out gently. "Hell, we shouldn't be talking about it at all. Nothing needs to change, Liv – you aren't ready and it's fine."

She tugged him into the hallway by the waistband of his lounge pants and muttered, "And who are you to decide if I'm ready or not? I woke up and you weren't there. I had a very arousing dream about daddy Rafa and you weren't in bed to –"

His cheeks flushed with warmth. "So you came to find me?"

"And you were being daddy for real – and it was so much sexier than in my dreams," she said softly. "But there we have it. You think I'm still shaking in my boots and –"

"Livvie, only a few days ago, you were pushing me away in a panic," he pointed out gently.

"It's changes from moment to moment," she said with growing frustration. "I change from moment to moment, Rafael – we all do. For god's sake: I am not my trauma. I am trying to… I am trying so hard –"

"I know," he whispered. "Which is why I'm not pushing. Our marriage isn't predicated on sex: it never was. And we have Noah now, which is a huge responsibility, Liv. We're…"

"I don't want to lose who we are," she pleaded, threading her fingers with his, holding his hand tightly. "You look at other women with longing now and I can't stand it –"

"I don't," he denied, but the truth was, if someone passed by that reminded him vaguely of Liv, he was mesmerized for a moment. Much to his chagrin. "Olivia, I want you. I need you. You are the fucking love of my life and nothing – no one – is going to change that."

She led him back to their room in the darkness and said, "Do you remember the night we met?"

"You kidding? Best night of my life," he said, squeezing her hand.

Liv laughed and said, "Seriously? There have been a thousand other good nights, Rafi –"

"Yeah, but… it was the first time I saw you and, my god, you could've knocked my ass over with a feather," he said with a smirk on his lips, pulling her into his arms, pressing his lips to her neck, inhaling her scent deeply. "I knew who you were, but I had no idea that the Olivia Benson was a fucking knockout."

She hummed softly and rubbed his forearms. "I saw this dead sexy man walking toward me in most of a suit and my first thought was that he was either gay or married because there was no way he was looking at me like he wanted to throw me on the desk and fuck me senseless – and then you were flirting shamelessly with me and I didn't know what to think when I found out that you were Rafael Barba. Everyone warned me about you."

"Let me guess: they said I was difficult, mean, grumpy, irascible, temperamental –"

"Without mercy," she added softly.

He chuckled. "For you, mi amor? Only in matters of the heart, in our bed. When I want to hear you scream with pleasure instead of pain." He paused. "Everyone else can fuck off."

"You are the best of men, Rafael Barba," she whispered. "I'm glad I didn't listen to Elliot and Cragen and the naysayers who told me that you were no good. I'm glad that you showed me that there's a fluffy marshmallow under there –"

"Hey, now," he said, stopping her wandering fingers, "enough with calling me fat. I'll have you know that they call that a 'dad bod' now, and it's quite popular in mommy circles."

"If another woman lays hands on you, I will shoot her," Liv swore. "Your 'dad bod' is mine, Barba." She slipped one hand down his pants and he shivered at her touch.

"Olivia –"

"There is very little in this life that's sexier than seeing you be a good father," she murmured. "Except those damn suspenders. Or that bedhead of yours. Or when you're barely coherent in the morning and on your first cup of coffee and want to fuck against the kitchen counter."

He moaned and thrust involuntarily into her hand. "Olivia," Rafael breathed, "are you sure –"

"Take off your pants and get into bed," she murmured. "And I'll make it worth your while."

"I should be the one saying that to you," he said softly. "You give so much and –"

"Rafa, shut up," she muttered, "and come to bed." She turned in his arms, pressing a lingering kiss to his lips, then nipping at his lower lip playfully. "Who knows when Noah will wake up again."

He groaned, this time in something less than pleasure; when she got it right, she definitely got it right. "Yeah, that kid needs to learn to sleep through the night –"

"He'll get used to us and figure it out soon," she promised.

"And in the meanwhile?"

"And in the meanwhile, you can put that mouth of yours to better use," she scolded, pulling her nightshirt off and tossing it away. There was very little light in the room – just a vague trickle of moonlight from around the edges of the curtains – but it was just enough to illuminate the silhouette of her breasts, the curve of her torso, to make him want with a desire so strong that it surprised him.

He was out of his pajamas in moments, following his wife and her siren's song back to their bed, thankful to be alive in her wake. He made a move to turn on the light but she stilled his hand. "No," Liv whispered. "I don't want you to see what he did to me –"

"Mi amor, unless I put my glasses on, I can assure you, I won't be able to see shit," he joked lamely. "Not that it matters – eres la mujer más hermosa que he visto en mi vida. Y moriré feliz si puedo decírtelo todos los días."

She fell on him like a woman possessed – not that he was complaining. He was glad to just feel her around him, to hold her, to feel the scratch of her nails on his skin as she straddled him and he found himself home for the first time in what felt like forever.

He held her when she leaned forward and dropped her head against his neck, breath hot and shallow as she held back her emotions. "Liv – baby –"

"No," she exhaled, "he doesn't get to take this from us, Rafael. No."

Like a dam bursting; that was the only way to describe it. After being held at bay for so long, their passions were fit to burst, and the only thing that held them back was a quiet hiss of, "Don't you dare wake the baby."

It was fast, intense, and like being swept away on a stormy sea – he surrendered completely to Liv and let her take him in whatever way she wanted him, unable to bear the thought that she might change her mind. And when it was over and they were both panting for much-needed breath, his fingers drunkenly wandering over her thigh, her fingernails digging into his chest reflexively, he bit out a soft laugh.

"What?" Liv whispered into the darkness.

"I didn't think we'd ever top desperately fucking in a hotel bathroom at a gala," he commented wryly.

She laughed, then, too. "It has been a… a while," she agreed.

"I thought I might have lost you, mi amor," he whispered.

Liv shook her head. "No, never," she denied gently, rolling off of him and getting up to get a damp washcloth from the bathroom to clean up. "Hey – I… I just want you to know that I really wasn't ready before now."

He nodded and merely said, "I know." Because what else could he say to that?

They cleaned up and went to sleep, curled up together, wanting for nothing, having everything, the stillness of the night washing over them like a healing balm as they listened to the soft noises of Noah sleeping over the baby monitor.

"Cute kid," Rita said dismissively at the door. "You called me."

"Yeah, we need a lawyer for the kid," Rafael said wryly. "Thought you might have some ideas."

Rita rolled her eyes and sighed. "Please tell me that alcohol is involved and that I don't have to touch him," she said. "It is a him, yes?"

"His name is Noah," Liv interjected as they walked into the kitchen where she was plating up dinner. "You want some wine, Rita?"

"I thought you two had given up on the whole babies thing," Rita scoffed, looking at Noah with distaste as the baby reached a drool-chewed finger toward her.

"Temporarily, yes," Rafael said with a sigh. "Seriously, Noah needs legal representation – I'm not qualified to practice family law."

"Neither am I," Rita shot back. She sighed heavily. "I mean, if you want good… Trevor Langan used to practice before he went defense. Ask him about the case that made him turn."

"I'm not sure I want to know," Liv said darkly. "We've seen our share of shit."

Rafael nodded. "I know of Langan and his reputation, but –"

"I've worked with him," Liv said. "He's good. He would probably be amazing. He won't do it, of course, I'm sure –"

"You never know," Rita said with a smirk. "Bat those eyelashes, Sergeant, and see where it gets you."

Rafael glared at his friend. "That isn't even funny, Rita," he muttered.

She shrugged and added, "Or swing those hips, Rafi – I hear he swings both ways."

"Wow," Liv said, setting a glass of merlot down in front of their guest. "What crawled up your ass and died, Calhoun?"

Noah started making fussy noises and reaching for things on the table, so Rafael put him in the high chair. "Mi amor, can you grab me the jar of carrots and sweet potatoes from the fridge from earlier?" he asked as he strapped a bib onto the baby and began teasing him with a spoon. "Little man is getting hungry again."

"Just like his papi," Liv commented dryly, bringing over a cold jar of vegetables and another jar of prunes.

"Seriously, there are about five family lawyers worth their salt in the city," Rita sighed. "Langan isn't even practicing anymore, but if you can convince him to take Noah on as a client, he's your best bet. Unfortunately, he hates Rafael by reputation alone."

"What did I ever do to him?" Rafael sighed.

"Nothing – it's your rep, kiddo," Rita said, "just like I said. You play hardball and give zero fucks. Even I have a hard time managing you."

"You don't manage me," he retorted, shoveling food into Noah's mouth. "And the fact that you think you can is adorable, Rita."

"How do you manage him?" Rita asked Olivia, nearly whining.

Olivia pulled the roast out of the oven and raised an eyebrow. "I'm insulted that you think that our relationship requires such pettiness, Rita," she said dryly. "Besides, he's usually the one managing me."

Rafael smirked and said to Noah in a conspiratorial tone, "Your Auntie Rita still hasn't learned that mami is the scary one who needs her gun taken away. You and papi know better, don't we, hombrecito?"

Rita rolled her eyes. "What's for dinner?"

"Beef roast with potatoes, carrots, and onions," Liv said. "Your friend here put it all in the oven and set the timer. I'm just supposed to pull it out and take the credit."

Rafael rolled his eyes and sighed. "How are you taking the credit if you're putting it all back on me, Liv?"

"Well, I can't cook much more than boxed mac and cheese," she protested. "We'd starve without you and take-out."

Rita stifled a laugh and said, "I mean, good thing you two love each other or you'd kill each other. I bet the sex is fabulous."

"Amazing," Liv sighed.

Rafael smirked. "Like I'm going to tell you, Calhoun."

"You don't have to – that dopey shit-eating grin does it for you," Rita said, chuckling. "And the fact that you've made it so long and through so much…"

Liv smile faltered. "Yes, well…"

"Rita, we're going to make it through a hell of a lot more," Rafael said firmly, switching to the prunes. "When I told you I was getting married, I meant it was forever. Liv and I aren't giving up on this any time soon."

"No, of course not – what idiot does?" Rita said with a sigh. "I mean –"

"Maybe we should just eat," Liv interjected quickly, trying to salvage the situation before it could get further out of control.

"Do you want me to call Trevor?" Rita said. "I mean, he might not take my call –"

"Sure," Rafael said, shrugging. "Hell, if he does, invite him over. There's enough food and wine."

Rita rolled her eyes and pulled out her phone. After a minute's scrolling through her contacts, she initiated a call. "Hey, Trevor? It's Rita Calhoun – yeah… yeah, it's been a while. How are you? Yeah, yeah… That's great. I'm fine. Yeah. Divorced the swine. Like ten years ago. It's been that long, yeah. Hey, so, I have some friends who need some family law advice and I thought you'd be perfect. I know you haven't practiced in a while, but – yeah. Yeah. I think you should hear them out, Langan. They extended a dinner invitation: a hot meal that isn't takeaway wouldn't go amiss. Yeah. I'll text you the address so you can Uber over. Thanks. See you in a bit." She hung up and looked over at Rafael, rolling her eyes again. "He worked with Bob," she said, shrugging. "Motherfucker," she added, no love lost in describing her ex-husband.

"Right," Rafael said, nodding. "I guess we need to set another place at the table." He capped the prune jar and got up to rinse the empty vegetable jar while going in search of a wipe to clean Noah up with. "You are a very messy eater, mijo," he accused as he wiped down the baby's face with a wide grin.

Noah giggled and reached up to clap his hands around Rafael's face happily, and Rafael grinned back at him, chuckling at his enthusiasm. When he finally stood back up, Liv was smiling at him, with tears streaming down her cheeks. "He… he hasn't laughed," she said.

"He's happy," Rafael said, carefully ruffling Noah's hair. "We're making him happy, Liv."

Rita coughed and said, "Hey, so… did you hold up a judge to get the kid or what?"

"No, he's collateral damage from a closed SVU case," Rafael said. "He was removed from every home he was put into, and Liv is still investigating his biological mother's murder. Judge Linden finally asked if she would like to emergency foster Noah, and I was – obviously – called immediately. We've had him four days, and it's been…"

"Terrifying and thrilling and amazing," Liv supplied softly. "Rafael is the best father."

"And Liv is a wonderful mother," he added.

"Look, my money was on you two getting divorced within a year," Rita said, tipping her wineglass at them. "And now you've got a house and a damn kid. You're so disgustingly perfect I want to puke."

"We're far from perfect," Liv said.

Rafael chuckled and freed Noah from the high chair. "Come on, amigo, let's go see mami," he said, pressing a kiss to the top of the baby's head. "Head's up, Olivia - bebe entrante."

Olivia smiled as he flew Noah up through the air and into her arms, all the while, the little boy was giggling breathlessly. "Oh my goodness, Noah! What is papi doing to you?" she teased, tickling the baby. "Rafa, why don't you wash your hands and carve the roast?"

"Absolutamente, mi querida," he said, giving her a kiss before heading to the sink.

"This is me barfing," Rita said, making a show of mock gagging. "You two."

Liv laughed. "He leaves the cranky lawyer pants behind at 1 Hogan Place," she teased.

"I do not need to hear about Barba's pants," Rita sneered.

The doorbell rang, and Rafael wiped his hands on the dishtowel quickly. "I'll get it," he said. "Drink your wine, Calhoun." He went to the front door and was entirely unsurprised to see Trevor Langan standing there awkwardly. "Hello, Langan."

Langan sneered. "Barba – I took a call from Rita Calhoun about a possible client…"

"Yes," Rafael said, "please come in – my wife and I are fostering a little boy and he's going to need legal representation that I'm afraid I'm far from qualified to give. So I reached out to Rita, and she recommended you."

"I didn't know you were married," Langan said, setting down his briefcase and allowing Rafael to take his coat and hang it up.

"Yes, for several years," Rafael said with a small smile. "We're having a beef roast with vegetables for dinner; I hope that won't be a problem."

"No, that sounds fantastic." Langan followed him into the kitchen.

"Merlot okay?" Rafael said. "Or would you rather have scotch?"

"You'll need to open another bottle of wine," Rita piped up with a smirk, raising her glass.

Liv looked up from where she was scooping vegetables into a serving dish with Noah perched on her hip. "Counsellor Langan," she greeted with a small smile. "Glad you could make it."

Langan hesitated for a moment, then said, "Sergeant Benson – you – Barba – shit."

"That's what I'm saying," Rita said, gesturing with her glass. "Isn't it just disgusting?"

Rafael rolled his eyes and sighed. "For god's sake Rita, you were at our wedding," he said. "You've been helpful and happy and –"

"You two are disgustingly happy and I hate you," Rita said with a frown.

"No more wine for you," Liv said firmly, gesturing with her serving spoon. She sighed and glanced at Langan. "Trevor, Rafael and I have been married for six years now. It's not exactly new. Or news."

"Six years," Langan said. "So the last time I asked you out –"

"I was already seeing Rafa," Liv said. "I mean, it's not like we couldn't have –"

"I don't need to hear this," Rafael muttered, suddenly flooded with irrational jealousy. "Him, Liv?"

"I could say the same about you," Langan grumbled back. "You're an ass, Barba –"

"Enough," Olivia said. "This isn't about your fragile male egos, okay? I married Rafael. I love Rafael. We are together and that's it. What we need, Trevor, is proper legal representation for Noah. The state hasn't provided him with any, and if we go forward with adoption and, really, with anything, he'll need it." She took a deep breath, then continued, "I know you stopped practicing family law because of something major – but… maybe you could use your powers for good?"

Langan barked out a single laugh. "You know why I stopped practicing family law, Olivia? Because I represented a little girl in a case that was tried in Brooklyn, involving SVU and Kings County. Your husband took a plea bargain at the last minute, her abuser got off, and murdered her. And, yeah, I hold him responsible for it."

Rafael flinched; he vividly remembered that case, the pain it had caused him early in his career. How he'd been forced to seek therapy to even begin to understand that he was not entirely responsible for the outcome, only a piece of the puzzle that had gotten them to that point. "Do you want me to say that that was my fault, Langan?" he asked. "Because I didn't strangle her. I didn't bury her. I pled him out, yes, at the behest of my superiors – it wasn't what I wanted, but the case wasn't strong enough to sway a jury. I am no more at fault than if one of your clients went on to kill someone in prison. And it has no bearing on whether or not you'll represent my son. Noah is… Noah is innocent. He is a child. He deserves so much more than Liv and I can give him, but we're going to try to be worthy of being his parents. It's all we can do. We want to do our best for him. And right now, that's trying to talk you into being his lawyer." He paused. "But first – dinner."

He carved the roast and poured wine, while Liv laid out the vegetables. Rita looked decidedly unimpressed, but still tucked in, and Langan made a show of eating his fair share – probably thinking that Liv was the orchestrator of the meal. Liv, for her part, fed Noah small bits of potato and ate her dinner while cheerfully trying to avoid any topics that would set off the potentially volatile table.

By dessert – simple vanilla ice cream over decadent caramel brownies he'd gotten at the bakery down the way – Langan finally said, "I would be honored to represent Noah's interests and those of his parents."

"Wait, what?" Rita said, sitting up with interest. "I thought you hate Barba."

"I do. But I'm also sure that if Barba can pull off the mortgage on this place, he can pay my retainer," Langan said with a dismissive shrug.

Liv cleared her throat. "I'm sure we can work something out," she said.

Rafael snapped, "Langan, you keep your hands and eyes to yourself and I'll pay the damn blood money."

Rita finally looked impressed. "Damn. Takes a lot to ruffle his feathers."

"My feathers aren't ruffled," Rafael growled.

His feathers were well and truly askew.

TBC...