XXXI:

The house was under quarantine: Noah had the measles, presumably contracted when Liv had taken him to the pediatrician for his vaccinations, and Rafael was livid. Not at his wife, god no – they had both made the informed decision to hold off on the innoculations until his immune system was a little more developed and stronger, with the consent of his social worker and Langan as his lawyer and Judge Linden signing off, as well – but at the circle of rich families that had deliberately circumvented the system to their own ends. And, as the detectives did their research, they were digging up more and more criminal behavior.

He was nearly at his wit's end, directing his team of ADAs what charges needed to be filed and what papers needed to be drawn up and referenced from the relative comfort of the living room, but he needed access to a library – which he didn't have. Tele-connect only did so much, and he was getting frustrated when the clerks were telling him off behind his back, and sometimes to his face.

"Rafa," Liv murmured, coming up behind him and putting her arms around his waist, snuggling against his back, "please tell me it's going to be okay. Just lie to me and tell me it's going to be okay."

This time, he didn't know, couldn't blindly lie to her, lead her on into the darkness with only faith at his feet. This was his family, his son, a host of other children – this was a danger that could have been avoided if only people followed instructions. "Mi amor –"

Her voice cracked, broke. "Please," she begged, the word so soft he almost didn't hear it, but for the anguish that ripped through him.

"Everything is going to be fine, Liv," Rafael lied; and he prayed that his words fell on the ears of god.

It wasn't until much later, when the case was won and Noah was home from the hospital and back in his arms that he was able to breathe again. Trudy Malko's hateful words in the courtroom when Liv had testified to SVU's involvement in the case, accusing her of merely filing charges because her son was sick, had enraged him to the point that he had almost done something rash. But Keishi had pivoted her questioning and hammered the point home that Malko had not only decided what was good for her own children, but clearly what was good for Sergeant Benson and EADA Barba's son, as well as all the other children – and adults – who were ill with measles. Because the cases were still spreading.

Rafael held Noah against his chest, the little boy in his flannel sleeper and Rafa in his t-shirt and lounge pants, rocking in the rocking chair, just glad to be together again. Noah whined in his sleep, snuggling closer to his dad and snuffled, digging his fingers into Rafael's shirt, drooling a little. Liv was still at work, a perp in interrogation, so they were on their own. Abuelita was downstairs watching a telenovela and the rest of the house was quiet. He was glad of the peace; it made it easier to commune with the god he mostly ignored unless he needed something.

"You took my daughter and gave me a son," Rafael whispered in the dimly lit room. "Please don't take him, too. We need him. Liv and I need him so much. We love Noah as much as we love each other. That's all I ask." He closed his eyes and leaned his face against Noah's head, committing the feel of the child in his arms to memory.

He jerked awake at the feeling of the baby being lifted from his grasp. "Shh, it's just me," Liv whispered.

"Liv?"

"Yeah, honey, it's just me," she assured him. "Hi, Noah, it's mommy," she whispered, soothing the whimpering, sleepy boy. "That's it, little man, bedtime now," she murmured, carrying him to the crib and laying him down. "Almost time to convert this to a toddler bed, isn't it?" she whispered conversationally as she rubbed Noah's belly, soothing him back to sleep.

Rafael watched her, somewhere between awake and asleep, struck stupid by how beautiful she was in the near darkness. He had always been in love with her, but this – the mundane sweet tasks of the end of the day – had him falling in love all over again.

"Come on, let's go before he wakes up," she insisted softly, grabbing him by the hand and pulling him into the hallway before shutting the door. The baby monitor was on – it was always on – and the receiver was already in their bedroom because that's where he had been when Noah had started fussing the first time. "You look tired, Rafi."

"I must have fallen asleep. What time is it?" he asked.

"Almost one," she said.

"Shit," he mumbled.

"Slow down," she insisted, steadying him when he stumbled under his own power. "Raf, you're wiped out – c'mon, let's get you to bed."

"Did you get your guy?" he mumbled.

"Mmmhmm," she said softly. "Grand jury tomorrow afternoon, final slot with Judge Barth."

"'Kay," he sighed. "You gonna sleep?"

"As soon as you rest," she promised. "You've been working too hard."

"Gotta keep the ship floating." She propelled him into their bedroom and tucked him in, then went about changing into her nightwear before climbing into bed with him. "Liv, I love you."

"I know," she murmured. "I love you, too. Go to sleep."

He woke up to a snuffling, pained cry over the baby monitor, and Liv shifting behind him in bed. "I've got it," Rafael mumbled automatically.

"No, I'm up," she assured him, her voice thick with sleep. "Go back to sleep, honey. You've been on duty for a hot minute – I've got him." She trailed her fingertips down his arm and he could hear her smile in the darkness even as she pulled away and headed downstairs. He heard her walk into the nursery and say, "Hello, little man – let's get your diaper changed and cuddle. It's sleepy bye time, little guy. Sun's still down and papi needs to sleep."

Rafael let out a soft chuckle in the dark, rolling over and tucking one of his pillows under his ribcage with a little grunt as he attempted to get comfortable enough to go back to sleep. He listened to the comforting noises of his wife and child moving around the nursery, then the creaking of the rocking chair and her soft voice murmuring unintelligible things too softly for the monitor to distinguish over Noah's light fussing. But soon, even that eased off into comfortable quiet, leaving only the sounds of the chair and Liv's humming.

Even so, he was still awake, consciousness bored into his brain like pinpricks of light. It was too difficult to grasp the elusive edges of sleep, so Rafael finally sat up in bed, running his fingers through his hair and sighing. Maybe he should cut back on the caffeine – but then again, he would probably have a mid-afternoon crash and violent headaches with the withdrawal, so maybe not? Maybe just less coffee after dinner would be advisable?

He didn't notice Olivia watching him from the doorway until she cleared her throat and said, "You were supposed to go back to sleep, not get up for the day, Rafa."

"Yeah, I know," he said. "Couldn't go back to sleep." He looked at the time on his phone, painfully bright in the darkness of the room. "It's four anyway."

"You don't have to get up till six," she pointed out.

"I can go get a jump start on –"

"Rafael," she said in a warning tone, "don't you dare."

He blinked. "I'm sorry?"

"If we're both going to be awake and in the same place at the same time, we deserve some time together," she reasoned with a small smile.

Rafael smiled back: alone time with his wife? After the hell they'd endured? Yeah, sign him up: it was almost too good to be true. Even if it was only a handful of minutes to cuddle and whisper sweet nothings into her ear and remind himself that there was more to life than a never-ending onslaught of shit headed his way, he needed that time. He needed Liv.

His heart still leapt with joy every time he saw her sitting in the gallery of the courtroom. His pulse sped up when they locked eyes across the floor of the 1-6. When she smiled, he wanted to do anything – anything at all – to keep that happiness on her face. And he hoped that the shine never wore off their marriage like so many others had. That they could keep finding a way to make it work.

"No quiero nada más que eso, alma mía." His words were gentle and earnest, soft and so full of truth that she came to the bed quickly, shedding her shorts and t-shirt as she went, leaving her just in a bare pair of panties. "Liv, you didn't want me to –"

"Get those off," she instructed, tugging up at the hem of his t-shirt, then snapping the waistband of his boxers almost painfully against his skin.

"Yes, ma'am," he agreed with a chuckle, shucking off his shirt, tossing it off the side of the bed, and doing away with his boxers the same way. "What are we going to do with your panties, then?"

"Whatever you like, Mr. Barba," Liv replied with a smirk.

"Oh, in that case…" He ran his fingertips down her torso, on either side of her ribcage, a smirk on his lips, pausing just long enough to hook his thumbs into the elastic waistband before tugging the offending garment down over her hips and down her thighs. "Hell of a view," he commented, glancing coyly up at her before kissing her inner thigh.

"Now you're bringing the jokes?" she murmured, breathless.

He growled and kissed down her leg as he removed her underwear completely, pausing before adding a last kiss to her ankle. "I thought you liked my jokes," Rafael accused.

"I do, but –" Liv huffed a little. "Maybe a little less in bed than at work."

He would never admit it aloud, but it was that little indignant attitude of hers that really did it for him; she was so damn strong, so independent, didn't need anyone – no one but him, and she only confessed that under duress. Knowing that he was under her skin that deep, so embedded that he couldn't be removed had him half-hard just being in the room with her, and she fucking well had to know it after this many years together. "Woman, you're going to be the death of me," he snarled, nipping his way back up her leg, finally coming to a stop at her inner thigh, laving her skin with attention, suckling, nibbling, growling, nuzzling as he listened to her whimpers, her fingers tangling in his hair, heedless of the way they tugged.

He moved inward, nudging her legs apart and delving in with all the passion and desire of a new lover, a man who had never tasted anything as sweet as the woman who had fallen open before his lips and tongue; she was his favorite flavor, and had been since the moment he had tasted her. He brought her to one shuddering climax, then another, then a third, all the while trying to ignore the pleasurable pressure of his hips against the mattress and the friction of his hard cock against the folds of the sheets.

"Rafi, Rafi," Liv gasped, yanking his hair hard as she slammed into her fourth orgasm, her entire body spasming and contracting alarmingly. Her eyes were glazed but wild, almost panicked. He pulled back and crawled up to kiss her reassuringly, the kiss gentle and languid, filled with all the devotion and love that he felt he could only show her in the privacy of their little bubble. Her hand crept over his body, tickling his ribs, tweaking his nipple – his cock twitched in response, swelling harder, bobbing right up to his stomach with a slap of skin – then with a small lascivious smile on her lips, wandered down to cup his balls.

"Dios!" Rafael yelped, unable to help himself.

"Let me –"

"No no no," he choked out, grabbing her wrist and removing her hand quickly. "It'll be over too quick."

"You're telling me you can't control yourself?" she teased, fingertips dancing lightly over his sweaty skin, leaving cold desire in their wake.

"Yes," he groaned, unafraid to admit the truth to her – only to her. Only in the confines of their private space. Only because they were going to be doing this until they died. Only because she held his heart in her so capable hands and he trusted her. His eyelids fluttered closed, relishing the feel of her touch.

"Good," she breathed, nibbling a kiss onto his shoulder. His eyes snapped open and he inhaled sharply, feeling her nails dig into his abdomen possessively.

It was a challenge and he knew it, but he didn't feel like rising to the bait. Instead, he extracted her nails from his skin and ever so gently moved her hand between her thighs. He raised a brow and inclined his head slightly, smirking a little. She pursed her lips together into a scowl and he responded by doing exactly what would irritate her into doing what he wanted: he grabbed his dick and achingly slowly slid his hand up the shaft.

Mutual masturbation as foreplay was a competitive sport for them, and Liv was always determined to win: so when she was really, really getting into it, her fingers slipping into her body with hot, wet noises, deep, moaning gasps of pleasure erupting from her lips as she got closer to her climax, fingers curling up inside her body, a flush beginning at her breasts and cheeks, he silenced her with a hungry kiss that brought her to a shuddering halt. Nevermind that he was teetering on the edge himself, that the knife cut both ways and all he wanted was to plow relentlessly into her until they were both screaming in pleasure…

She looked up at him, dazed, eyes glazed with such hunger and need that he could not have stopped if he tried. "Rafael," Liv breathed, kissing him, opening herself to him again as she had so many times before, and yet… and yet, it seemed different this time, as if something had shifted.

Her legs were as high around his waist as she could manage, he slid home and thrust heavily with ease, each stroke hard and fast, with a rhythm that was satisfying for them both. Her arms were up around his shoulders, holding him close, their lips never far apart, each moan, each groan, each sworn profanity swallowed by a deeply passionate kiss. He wanted her to come; he needed her to feel as intensely as he did as the intense pleasure coiled at the base of his spine, ready to explode. His fingers slid between them, fumbling for her clitoris, feeling a rush of vindication when she tightened around him and he finally let go. It was embarrassing how worked up she got him, how his body betrayed him so wholly and completely, and yet…

It was all worth it for the moments like this, where they lay together in the darkness, in the aftermath. It was good. It was the best. It was as if… he had found the piece of him that he had always been missing.

And that was utterly terrifying.

But he couldn't bear to lose her, either. Not now that he had found her. Not now that they were so tightly bound together.

"What are you thinking?" Liv whispered.

"That I love you more than anything," Rafael whispered back. "And it scares the fuck out of me."

She was silent for a long time, then her hand moved to cover his heart. "Me, too," she agreed. "But I can't imagine not having you in my life. I can't imagine a better father for Noah."

He covered her hand with his own and breathed, "Or a better mother."

They stayed like that, wound up in one another's arms, just being, until his alarm went off, jolting them back into reality with a merciless thump.

TBC...