XL:
Rafael let out a low, slow breath, then met Carmen's worried gaze. He tried not to show the anxiety he felt, but the expression on her face made it difficult. "How long have I been with you, Mr. Barba?" she asked.
"Twelve years, nine months, fourteen days and a couple of hours – you were just a temp with a legal pad and a nondescript black suit when we met," he recalled fondly, noting her scarlet blazer and plaid pants for the day and how she had long ago let her hair go natural instead of slicked back and straightened within an inch of its life.
"Right," Carmen said. "Long enough for you to trust me when I say that this one isn't like the others. This one is personal. I don't know who we need to call but we need to get the wheels in motion now to protect you and your family."
He hesitated. A kevlar vest and armed guards in the courtroom would do nothing to instill confidence in his ability to deliver fair rulings in family court. It would only frighten the children brought in to see him. Rafael exhaled deeply and shook his head. "Yeah," he finally said. "I don't know what to do, Carmen. I don't know how this ends in our favor in any way."
"Do you want me to call Lieutenant Benson?"
He stared at her in alarm. "No!"
"No?"
"Absolutely not!" The denial was sharp and furious. "Until we have a plan in place, Olivia doesn't need to know anything. She'll only be angry – when she gets angry, she gets sloppy, loses focus. I need her to be… I need her to be Badass Benson, not my Olivia, okay?" He ran his hand through his hair and took a deep breath. "Fuck."
"Okay, so… should I call 1PP first or just escalate it to our contacts at the FBI?" Carmen asked very quietly. "I mean, who do you think is going to shove your ass into bulletproof clothing faster?"
Rafael hesitated, then spun his internal roulette wheel. He had three cases on the books that he thought the threat might be about, and two of them were federal. "Call the Feds," he said quietly. "And I swear to god, if anything happens to my wife or kid – "
Carmen paused, hesitated, then said, "Rafael, I remember when we were in Brooklyn and you started seeing Liv. You never told her about the threats, did you?"
"Have you told your husband?" Rafael asked.
"That I have to wear Kevlar every day to work for one of the best lawyers turned judges in the state of New York?" Carmen shot back, one hand on her hip sassily. "He's not stupid. And if you think your wife is, you're dreaming. You'd better call Olivia and tell her or I will. And I won't protect you when she shoots your dumb ass instead of the dickhead who sent the letter." His assistant turned on her heel and stalked off to call the FBI.
Rafael exhaled and read the letter one more time, feeling sick to his stomach as he did. The details of what they wanted to do to him and his family would be enough to make anyone ill, but the idea that they could involve Carmen or anyone else around him in the carnage was unconscionable. He reached for his phone and dialed Liv.
"Hey, you," she said softly. "Between hearings?"
"I'm actually unexpectedly free for the day – Carmen got some things postponed and I'm waiting on a couple of meetings to get set up for later," he said with what hopefully sounded like enthusiasm. "What about you?"
"The usual – about to go into interrogation," Liv replied with a dread kind of cheerfulness. "Wouldn't dream of doing anything illegal, my love, don't you worry. How about I bring coffee over when we're done?"
"I don't know when those meetings will be, but I'll have Carmen call and let someone at the precinct know," he said softly. "Be careful, okay?"
"Rafa, you know I always am," she murmured. "You all right?"
"Fine," he confirmed. "Should I get groceries delivered for dinner tonight or are we ordering in?"
"Mmm, I think breakfast for dinner sounds delightful and we have all the things already," she replied. "French toast, scrambled eggs, sausages…"
"I love the way you think, Mrs. Barba," he murmured. "Go get your bad guy. I'll see you later." He turned the letter over in his fingers, praying that there would be a later to go home to.
"Okay, so… thank you for coming to this joint operational session –"
"No offense, why are we here?" Carisi asked, gesturing at the conference room full of people.
Carmen shifted her weight, moved to take notes on her tablet, but one of the Feds glared at her and she stood down. Rafael noted her tense reflexes and eyed his wife across the room with the members of her squad, and he frowned.
"Last week, Detective Dominick Carisi and Lieutenant Olivia Benson of Manhattan SVU received threats of bodily harm directed against their person," Agent Louise Morrison said. "Today, Judge Rafael Barba received a death threat directed against himself and his family. We believe the two incidents are connected, and not just through Ms. Benson and Mr. Barba's living situation." She inclined her head and gave them a tight-lipped smile. "You've had surveillance on your home since the threat, Lieutenant?"
"Yes," Olivia said crisply.
Rafael's mouth went dry; he hadn't noticed anything out of the ordinary, and since when did Olivia keep things like this from him. "No, no, no – wait – Liv, we promised no more secrets –"
"Oh you're one to talk," Olivia snapped from across the room. The distance between them might as well have been a cavern. "A death threat, Rafael? Jesus! At least I had the decency to put some security on the house!"
"I called the fucking FBI!"
"Technically, I called the FBI," Carmen grumbled.
"Not helping," Rafael snapped at his assistant.
"Yeah, neither is arguing with your wife over who should be in control of familial security arrangements," Carmen shot back. "It's only going to end up with all of you dead and contrary to popular belief, I kind of like you guys alive."
"What are you two whispering about over there?" Olivia growled.
Rafael almost made a snappy comeback, but instead, his shoulders slumped forward in defeat and he said, "Carmen was reminding me that my efforts to protect my family thus far have been completely inadequate and I should probably shut up and do whatever I'm told."
Liv frowned. "What do you mean thus far?"
Carmen spoke up then, directing her next statement at Dodds. "He means this isn't the first threat he's received, and it isn't the first time the NYPD has offered him protection. Is it, Chief Dodds?"
Dodds took a deep breath, then exhaled it with a heavy sigh. "Unfortunately not," he acknowledged with a deep frown. "This time, however, it is beyond what we perceive as the scope of what we can adequately cover and we are more than willing to turn it over to the Feds."
Liv, however, was staring at Rafael, having grasped onto a fragment of the conversation. "How many threats?" she asked, her pupils dilating with worry. "When? Why didn't you tell me?"
"Why? So we would live our lives in fear?" Rafael asked in frustration. "Ever since I opened my smart mouth in court, I've gotten threats, Olivia! If I listened to every crackpot moron who said he was going to beat the fuck out of me, I'd be dead a hundred times over by now. I'm not going to live like that – and I sure as hell am not going to drag you into those shadows. All those nights we went walking in the park after dark just us holding hands and laughing? We wouldn't have that. I am not afraid of the idiots that want me to think they are bigger and stronger than we are – but I am afraid of the person who sent this letter today. Because this is not a game and I will not lose you or my son. Do you understand?"
He was beyond terrified. On some level, it was like Lewis all over again, a psychological terror he didn't want to touch or be near, and yet, he couldn't pull away from it. The only thing he couldn't stand to lose was his family, and that was what this person had honed in on, going straight for the underbelly – Rafael's only weak spot, the chink in his armor.
Olivia left her side of the table then, left her squad, the family she had forged in fire, and crossed the invisible line to him. "Hey," she whispered, pulling him into a tight embrace, heedless of the eyes on them. "It's not a game. It has never been a game: it will never be a game." Her breath was hot against his skin, a reminder of all the things between them, of comfort, of passion, of a desire so deep it swallowed them whole and spit them back out again both damaged and unscathed in ways that marked them forever.
"We've already put a team on your house and on your son's pre-school," Morrison interjected, "as lovely as this domestic altercation is." She rolled her eyes a little. "I assume both of you will continue working?"
"I can't exactly stop ruling cases," Rafael said.
"Rapists don't stop raping," Olivia countered.
"One team for Benson, one for Barba, one for your assistant, one for your mother – any family for you, Benson?"
Liv shook her head. "Just my brother, but he's… I don't know where he is," she admitted quietly. "I don't think he would be involved. But his name is Simon Marsden in case you find him in the process of all of this."
"I can't make any guarantees."
"I know," Liv said. She pressed a kiss to Rafael's cheek and sighed. "You okay?"
"Fuck no," he exhaled on a hysterical laugh.
"Okay, me, either," she agreed. "You're wearing a bulletproof vest."
"Did you think I wasn't taking this seriously?"
"You already had a –"
"I told you I've been getting threats…"
"I love you," she whispered.
"Olivia, you don't always have to protect me," he said very softly. "Let someone else step up for a while, mi amor." He held her close and pressed a kiss to her hair. "I promise not to die if you promise to let someone else be heroic." She stifled a laugh and poked him in the side; he didn't even feel it through the vest.
"What are you doing up?" she asked, sneaking up behind him and giving him a hug around the waist as he peered into the fridge.
"Snack," he replied. "What about you?"
"It was cold in bed without you," Liv said softly, kissing his back. "Want me to make some cocoa?"
"Nah, I was just going to put some butter on bread and go back to bed," he dismissed. "Want a piece?"
"I'll share yours," she teased as he turned in her arms. After a lingering kiss, Rafael managed to free himself and made his way in the dim light from the appliances over to the breadbox and butterbell. He grabbed a slice of sourdough and slathered some butter on it, tearing some off for his wife's enjoyment. When they were finished with the snack, he gave her a kiss. "What was that for?" she asked with a smirk.
"Because you're unbearably beautiful," he said softly. "So fierce and brave –"
"Oh, hush," she scolded gently. "You're always flattering me, Rafael. What about you?"
"What about me?"
"You are so very loyal and strong and you use that razor-sharp mind to outwit everyone who even thinks about crossing you," she whispered. "But you're so gentle and loving to me and Noah, so sexy and sweet… it's the most wonderful thing about you. That you love us so much."
He exhaled hard, pulled her close, buried his face in the crook of her neck and shoulder. "It hurts to love so much," Rafael admitted. "But I wouldn't give you up. Neither of you."
"I know it's only been a few weeks since Connie died…"
"We should look into it," Rafael said. "But not until after the threats are resolved, obviously. I can't – I can't even think about bringing another child into our family if someone is threatening to murder us in our sleep, Liv."
"Yeah," she acknowledged. She kissed him deeply and he maneuvered them against the counter till she was perched just so, her robe gaping open. He chuckled and shoved the hem of her robe and her oversized t-shirt up her hips so he could pull her panties out of the way and get his mouth on her – much to her gasping delight.
He had brought her to the pinnacle of pleasure once, and was nearly there a second time when the sound of shattering glass echoed in the kitchen, and her sounds of bliss turned to pain. She clutched at her arm for a moment before she slapped at his head and dragged him roughly down to the floor. "Raf," she hissed almost silently, "you have to get out of here. You have to – "
"I'm not leaving you," he growled.
"Stupid man," she hissed.
"Yeah," he agreed.
"I left the panic button on the charger," she mumbled. She fought to get the dishwasher door open and pulled out the tray, displaying the clean knife he'd used earlier to filet the salmon, nice and sharp. "You can get it if you stay low."
"I'm not leaving you," he insisted.
"Rafael," Olivia said very softly, "I love you. I trust you. But there isn't a plan and you have to go. Now." She shoved him roughly into motion.
He dragged himself across the floor, listening to the sounds behind him and all around, of more glass being broken, of wood splintering and the alarm going off, of Noah's startled crying, Lucy's voice upstairs as she tried to comfort the scared little boy, the panic button going off as he finally reached it – of the FBI team as they broke in the front entrance and he pointed them toward the kitchen, terrified of what would happen when they entered with guns drawn.
They brought a man out of the kitchen, bleeding and with the filet knife still caught beneath his skin. He sneered at Barba as he walked past, but his face was unfamiliar, and Rafael let out a breath he didn't realize he was holding. He took a few stumbling steps into the kitchen and saw Liv propped up against the counter, one of the agents holding pressure to her shoulder as she winced.
"We didn't turn on any lights," Liv was saying quietly. "He had to have had night vision goggles or something to see us. We were… intimate."
"In the kitchen at three in the morning?" the agent inquired with a raised brow.
"Whenever and wherever I want to fuck my wife is none of your concern," Rafael snapped. "We were in the privacy of our own home and that privacy was violated by a madman intent on killing us! Now, please tell me that you've called for medical attention for my wife before I lodge a formal complaint –"
"Rafi, I'm fine," Liv protested.
"You were shot," he grumbled.
"It went right through," she said pleadingly. "I'll be fine once they stitch me up at the hospital. Calm down. I'm fine." She reached over and stroked his arm comfortingly with her good hand. He leaned into her touch and tried to focus on that for the time being.
Morrison sat down opposite the table from them and said, "The man that was arrested last night was not the man responsible for the death threat against Mr. Barba or the threats against your team, Ms. Benson."
"How do you know?" Rafael countered belligerently, crossing his arms over his chest and glaring at her. "Did you waterboard him? Interrogate him extra hard with Barney on the hi-fi?"
Morrison frowned and jutted her jaw out, glaring at him for a moment before she took a deep breath and said, "Contrary to popular belief, not all FBI agents are assholes, Mr. Barba."
Liv clutched his arm. "Rafa… he's undercover," she said very softly.
"The fuck that douche is –"
"Think about it," Olivia said. "He didn't do any real damage to the house or to me; he definitely didn't do anything to you. I mean, maybe he would have if I had let him, but –"
"He shot you!"
"It was just a flesh wound."
"Oh Dios mío," he hissed. "¿Qué diablos te pasa, mujer?"
"Unfortunately," Morrison interrupted, "Ms. Benson hit the nail on the head. The man who broke into your house last night is an FBI agent who has been undercover in a sex trafficking ring for the last six years. You've managed to arrest the second in command in the last few weeks, hence the threats against Ms. Benson and Mr. Carisi, and remove the four year old daughter from the custody of the alleged head of the ring, Mr. Barba, hence the premium on your head. My man had to at least pretend to make it look real so he could get the intel to us before he's released back into the wild." She folded her hands together onto the tabletop. "What I need from you and your crew is to stay down and out of the crossfire. Do you understand?" She looked at Olivia specifically at that point.
"Oh, I understand completely," Liv said, reaching over to take his hand.
In the end, it was over in two more days. The Feds got the glory of the arrests, the NYPD got commendations for the people who were used during the operation, and Rafael… Rafael got the satisfaction of knowing that, once again, he was the baseball bat of justice to some motherfucker's kneecaps, however figurative.
The FBI paid to replace the back door and upgrade their alarm system, and he was pretty pleased with that arrangement, if only because they were at least partially responsible for fucking shit up in the first place.
It wasn't, however, until they were alone in the quiet of the night, after their security details had fucked off for the last time and they were back to just being the Barbas again, that they were able to talk about what had happened.
"You're never going to stop protecting me, are you?" Rafael whispered against her skin, tasting the salty tang of her sweat, the cottony fibers of blanket that clung in its wake. "Even when I don't want it or need it –"
"You always need it," Liv murmured, rolling over to cling to him. "And it's okay. I need to protect you, Rafa. It makes me feel better to know you're safe." She winced when she jarred her shoulder, but still settled against him. "Besides, we both know you'd win in a fight."
"Would I?"
"Mmmhmm." She took a deep breath and whispered, "You're very distracting. At least for me. Everyone else can fight with you: I just want to be on your winning side." After a long pause, she added, "If you get anymore threats and don't tell me, I'm going to kick your ass, Barba."
"Sí, señora," he agreed. "And I'll let you do it."
"Better wear that Kevlar to be safe, hot stuff," she whispered. "I want you home safe every night."
He smiled and pressed a kiss to her temple. "Of course," he breathed.
TBC...