Course evaluations for INSTRUCTOR Marquez, Rafael - Spring 2015
Mr Marquez is a great instructor. My writing really improved because of his helpful feedback. His anecdotes and stories gave me inspiration for my own writing.
I enjoyed this class because Mr Marquez shared so many interesting stories with us. I hope to take another class with him in the future.
Whenever I had a question, Mr Marquez replied to my emails very quickly with useful tips and feedback.
I wasn't very excited about this class but started to enjoy the lectures and seminars after a few weeks. The essay topics were interesting and he graded papers fairly.
"Sure you don't want to take a peek at the page?"
Olivia had her laptop open and angled enticingly towards Rafael on the other side of the kitchen counter, but all she received in response was an exaggerated shake of his head.
"No - I don't need to read what my students are saying about me," he asserted, his gaze going right over the screen and boring into her with disapproval, although the detective in her didn't miss the hint of self-doubt in his stare. One academic year of teaching later, Rafael certainly had made strides in his new job, but neither of them had anticipated just how much of an adjustment it was from a courtroom.
"They're really not as bad as you think! Here's one I liked - 'Mr Marquez is a great instructor. Clear, approachable…'"
"Nope," he interrupted, popping the "p" for added measure. "Still don't want to see them."
"At any rate, you're sure to get promoted to a full-time position," she beamed. "I looked at your colleagues' pages too, and-"
"Olivia!" he gasped with a disapproving frown.
(Although there was something about her cheeky grin that he simply couldn't resist, either.)
"Come on, don't tell me you haven't wondered how you're doing compared to them."
"I haven't," Rafael fired back. "I swear," he added, throwing a palm in the air for emphasis when he was met only with a sceptical grimace. "Isn't Rate My Professor just a glorified popularity contest, anyway?"
"Too afraid of the competition?" Olivia teased, although she regretted that choice slightly when the self-doubt she'd seen flashes of earlier finally re-emerged.
The exhaustion she'd seen all semester crept back into his voice and expression. "Actually - I've been putting off reading those course evaluations because I don't want all the work I've put in to be for nothing. It's been a tough semester."
He put down his mug of tea and his tired sigh seemed to reverberate through the room. Despite starting the semester with a manageable teaching load, he'd been forced to take on two more groups of students when a colleague had to go on emergency medical leave, which meant many more hours in his office and nearly twice the papers to grade. Of course, Olivia had been nothing but supportive and encouraging as he lamented how much of a change it was from being an ADA, but there were nights - especially during finals season - that made him question everything about his new career choice.
And then there were the course evaluations, and the much more public Rate My Professor page he knew he had. The school had sent them to him in a ZIP file that he'd simply refused to open: what if he saw a negative comment and reopened the torrent of insecurity that he'd only just overcome? Hence the email and web page remained untouched - untouched by him, that is.
Olivia's tone softened and she left her post on the other side of the kitchen counter to rest her head on his shoulder. "The work you've put in is absolutely not amounting to nothing. The reviews are good, Raf. You don't have to look at them yourself… but trust me, you're doing a good job, and your students can see it."
It was almost unimaginable; how something as simple as a smile from Olivia could steady him so quickly. He'd seen that smile countless times when he'd been forced to burn the midnight oil grading papers and preparing PowerPoint slides for the next day's classes, not unlike the ADA grind of his previous life, except that he had her this time around, wordlessly sliding over fresh cups of coffee or grabbing an extra handful of popcorn for him to snack on while deep in thought. She'd stayed up to keep him company despite his insistence that she head to bed without him, tolerated his playlist of instrumental jazz standards despite her own distaste for the genre.
So many gestures that he'd come to catalogue over the last few months, yet none could quite compare to the way Olivia smiled at him: confidence, comfort, and love wrapped up in the split-second the corners of her lips curled upwards. The same smile, equal parts bashful and assertive, that'd completely stolen him the first time he'd fallen for her two years ago, only now she wasn't just reacting to one of his smart-ass remarks - she was smiling directly at him, and he'd become even more helpless to her power.
Rafael turned to press a kiss to her temple, his earlier defensiveness now replaced by tender affection. "Don't know what I'd do without you."
"Hey, it was all you," she corrected him with a smile. "You're finally done with your first full academic year."
"Don't forget summer classes start in a fortnight," he grimaced, although he'd already been praying hard for a more humane workload.
It was as though she'd read his mind. "And with what you went through in the spring, the summer classes are going to be a breeze. They'll be over in no time."
Olivia paused briefly and stared at the countertop, deep in thought, as though she'd been sitting on her thoughts for a while. "You know… I really think we ought to go on vacation this summer, after you're done with your classes."
Rafael frowned, the word now unfamiliar to his ears. "Vacation? Will the marshals allow us to go on vacation?"
"Not internationally, of course, but I'm sure they wouldn't mind if it wasn't more than a couple hours' drive from us, right? Or even a domestic flight?"
He took a slow sip from his mug of tea as the idea started to take root in his head. Surely the marshals weren't going to say no to a short vacation, as long as they stayed far away from Manhattan. "I'm listening. What do you have in mind?"
"Maybe a few nights away from town when you can get some time off. When's the last time either of us took an actual vacation, anyway? You used to take plenty of those," she remarked with a raised eyebrow.
He laughed dryly. Olivia did have a point. Long periods of leave weren't easy to come by in the District Attorney's office, and he'd developed the habit of taking off for exotic destinations in every window he could seize - skiing in Gstaad, the medina in Marrakesh, fortresses in Finland. During his stint with SVU, he did manage to take the thrill-seeking down a notch and stay put in the city more often (mostly because he stayed for a specific detective he carried a torch for), but it'd been some time since the word "vacation" had crossed his mind. Perhaps they finally were settled enough to consider that possibility again - and it excited him.
"I'm sure we can find somewhere not too far from us to visit this summer. So…" she asked hopefully, "are you keen?"
There was something utterly surreal about Olivia asking him to go on vacation with her - so utterly surreal that the first word that he uttered was an unequivocal "yes". "I'd love that."
"Sounds like a plan, then." Olivia reached across the table to squeeze his hand.
"Great."
"Great," she echoed.
Olivia turned back to her laptop and Rafael took that as a cue to return to the PowerPoint slide deck he'd been fussing over a few minutes ago, but the wheels in his head had already started turning - and God, he was excited for the rest of the summer.
Later that night, as Olivia drifted into slumber, Rafael found himself reaching for his phone on the nightstand, too preoccupied with thoughts of their earlier conversation to fall asleep. I won't check the page, he'd told himself countless times since starting this job, and all those months, he hadn't given in to his curiosity once. After all, wasn't it curiosity that killed the cat? He thought he was long past the days of obsessing over his conviction rate and predicting what the eighth floor would bring up in his annual performance review - that was a part of his life that didn't need to follow him here.
But Olivia's undoubtedly confident you're sure to get promoted to the full-time position certainly was reigniting that competitive streak - and her come on, don't tell me you haven't wondered how you're doing compared to them was stoking the flames. Rafael turned his screen brightness down and turned to face away from her, before typing Rafael Marquez into the Rate My Professor search bar with trembling fingers. He sucked in a nervous breath as the page loaded and wondered if it was too late for him to close the window, but she had opened the floodgates and he couldn't turn back now.
Overall quality: 5/5
100% would take again.
Rafael blinked twice and read it again.
Overall quality: 5/5
100% would take again.
Holy shit, was he relieved; he finally let out the breath he'd been holding. Suddenly, scrolling down the page didn't seem so difficult anymore.
Best class I've taken at this school so far.
Solid instructor with interesting assignments. Genuinely helps his students and gives good advice.
Really helped me improve my writing.
Rafael scrolled through the page, his heart beating too wildly for him to focus on reading each one, but the keywords he could make out made him almost spring out of bed in sheer relief - and pride. Olivia really hadn't been joking, but then again, what reason did she have to pull his leg in the first place? Sometimes, she knew him better than he knew himself.
He turned off his phone and gently rested it back on the nightstand where it'd been. In the darkness of the room, he could barely make out Olivia's sleeping figure, but his heart swelled instantly knowing that she was the reason all this had happened: trying for this job, getting this job, and now actually doing this job. And doing this job well, at that.
"Raf?" Olivia's voice punctured the silence, making him jump slightly as he pulled the covers back over himself. "Everything okay?"
"Yeah, everything's okay," he whispered back, slightly embarrassed at having been caught. "Great, actually."
"Don't tell me you finally decided to check those course evaluations," Olivia chuckled softly in his ear. Even in the darkness of the room, her laughter and smile were luminescent.
He resisted the urge to find a sarcastic jab, and instead found her lips with his, his yes and gratitude wrapped up in a soft kiss. "Thank you."
Somehow, thank you never felt like enough when it came to Olivia. Even back in New York those two words never seemed to suffice, even when she'd helped him run the simplest of errands; then they'd gotten to Maryland and she'd been the one to pull him from the depths of despair when there was nothing else to live for. But the key difference between New York and Maryland was that he had time - and he could send those thank yous her way in soft, sleep-tinged kisses and quiet nights spent skin-to-skin. He'd happily pay this debt for the rest of his life.
"Proud of you." Olivia burrowed herself in his arms, the same way she did when he crawled back into bed after each long day of grading papers, her encouragement and affection radiating right through him. "Love you."
"Love you too, mi amor."
There was so much more that he could say, but he wrapped his thousand thank yous and I love yous in one more kiss and let that affection hang in the air, because there was no hurry - not anymore.
Overall quality: 5/5
100% would take again.
Those figures flashed through his head as he squeezed his eyes shut and sank into the mattress. In a previous life, he'd triumphantly - and selfishly - claimed victories like these as his own, but he was learning first-hand that they were so much sweeter when they were shared with someone else. And when that someone else happened to be the person he loved so much, he was starting to think that he'd never again be the Rafael Barba he was just over a year ago.
He liked that idea very much.
SYSTEM-ADMIN to OLIVIA DAVIS:
PROMOTION MEETING has been added to your calendar for WEDNESDAY.
Meeting duration:
1.5 hours
Meeting notes:
To confirm promotion from Assistant Manager to Manager, effective 1 August 2015.
To discuss Olivia's new position and responsibilities before her official commencement of the new role.
The first time Rafael had called Olivia mi amor had been somewhat of an accident.
He wasn't sure how much of that morning Olivia actually remembered clearly. He hadn't even been sure that she had heard him the first time he'd said it until a few days later, when the topic came up casually over morning coffee. "Thanks, mi amor," she'd winked at him as he handed her her travel mug, and it'd taken him a few seconds to put two and two together - she'd heard him loud and clear that morning.
Truly, mi amor had slipped out of his mouth without much thought. They simply hadn't been fated to spend a single relaxed morning together that week, with Olivia burning the midnight oil on a few consecutive nights before rushing off to work, while Rafael fussed over his ungraded papers and PowerPoint slides before making the long drive to the community college. And when she'd finally earned herself a much-deserved late morning, he'd been jolted out of bed for an early-morning lecture, and there was little else he could do other than get the coffee started for her on his way out.
So Rafael had resigned himself to a quick kiss on her forehead as he slipped out of their bedroom, until the term of endearment had casually slipped out. And the significance of that "accident" wasn't lost on either of them.
There wasn't an undo button for something like that - not that he wanted one, anyway. When the term had escaped his lips, Rafael realised almost immediately that everything about it felt right - and that calling it an "accident" would simply be a bald lie to himself. It had always been only a matter of time before he'd said it to her.
He'd wanted to call others by that pet name before, long before Olivia Benson had waltzed into his life. Before Lucia's relationship with his father had soured, the term echoed through the walls of their tiny walk-up apartment, each syllable filled with the kind of affection and passion that seemed to fill that small space with colour. Even after that, his annual appearances at the Barba family gatherings in Miami and being surrounded by just about every single loving couple in the family (and there were many of them) seemed to be telling him that a term like mi amor was in his blood; that he'd finally find the person he could call his love one day, as confidently as his mother once had. A few times he thought he'd come close, but each time he'd looked that person in the eyes and started hemming and hawing and agonising over the words, his gut seemed to know before his mind did that the words didn't feel quite right yet.
That wasn't the case with Olivia, however.
With Olivia, the term slipped out with the same, familiar ease of pressing the button on their shared coffee machine or turning off their alarm clock each morning - part of the fabric of the life they'd started building together. It felt easy, like he'd always been destined to call her by those words. Things with Olivia were easy. Easier than they'd been with anyone he'd shared a bed with. There simply was no one else who had ever made him feel this way - or feel this deeply.
Mi amor - it was possessive, confident, brimming with adoration. It also was singular, and Rafael's realisation that no one else had ever lived up to that title was especially telling.
Maybe Olivia was the one for him: the singular figure who lived up to the term. Maybe she was the first - and last - person he'd call mi amor knowing that he meant it with every fibre of his being.
Could he imagine spending the rest of his life with her? Rafael had jettisoned the very idea of spending the rest of his years with anyone a long time ago - or so he thought. He'd just spent dinner looking across at Olivia as their knees touched under the table and stealing glances in between bites of food, but he still couldn't get enough of her. They'd kissed while waiting for the check; while walking the short distance from the car to the Target entrance, and still he felt like he could kiss her a hundred more times, his desire unceasing.
Olivia had stoked the fire under his skin a long time ago, but time hadn't extinguished those flames. In fact, it only made them burn even stronger, and Rafael was starting to think that this was one fire that would burn for the rest of his days. How could someone be so effortlessly beautiful, even when doing something as simple and mundane as pushing a shopping cart down the aisle? They'd been here for months and he'd spent countless hours in the same rooms as her, yet the sight of her, even under the garish fluorescent Target lights, still gave Rafael butterflies, like the first time he'd laid eyes on her at 60 Centre Street and it felt like all the air had been sucked out of the room.
(And the more he looked at her, he was confident that she'd always be this beautiful, this distracting, to him.)
(He wanted to be distracted by her for the rest of his life.)
"Are we out of Ben and Jerry's already?" Olivia casually pushed the cart out of the detergent aisle, impervious to Rafael's racing train of thought. "We might as well stock up on snacks while we're here."
He almost didn't hear her question, because he was lost in the absurdity of thinking about forever in the junk food aisles of a suburban Target.
Could he imagine walking down the aisles of a suburban Target with her for the rest of his life? He laughed to himself thinking about how ridiculous that would've sounded to him just over a year ago, but watched her push their bright red cart past a wall of Pop-Tart boxes and thought that he could happily dwell in this absurdity forever. They'd long picked out the items they actually needed, but when a veritable collection of junk food separated them from the check-out counter, there was little stopping them from meandering through the aisles - not even the hearty dinner of pizza they'd just tucked into to celebrate the halfway point of Rafael's summer classes. "We have all the time in the world," she'd chuckled in the car when Rafael had scoffed at the idea of a Target run, and his cynicism seemed to disappear with just one laugh.
He liked this version of himself, he thought - the one that compared Pop-Tart flavours and cereal brands that he wouldn't have touched with a ten-foot pole back in New York, or rifled through the bargain bin for a household trinket they didn't need, far from the Upper East Side snobbery he'd been thrown into when he'd joined the DA's office as a fresh graduate from the South Bronx. Rafael liked the version of himself that Olivia brought out, including the one that found him in a suburban Target on an early summer night, actually enjoying himself.
"You know what the easiest way to make your students like you is?"
It took a second for him to register that Olivia was talking to him, and he quickly caught himself. "Mmm?"
"Buy that and give them out at the start of your next lecture." She pointed at an obscenely large bag of Twizzlers and his eyes shot open in disbelief.
"These are young adults, not grade school kids," he scoffed. "I don't think I can win them over with candy."
"Oh, you'll be surprised."
"Seriously?"
"Well, I'd pay complete attention to you if you handed me candy at the start of a long lecture," she remarked with a mischievous smirk.
"Because of the candy?"
"Obviously."
"Or because you can't take your eyes off me?" It was his turn to smirk, to which she rolled her eyes exaggeratedly. "You've always loved watching me talk."
She felt her cheeks redden involuntarily like they had the first time Rafael had caught her staring at him in court (not like she'd meant to at that time, but over time she'd learned why). "You've always had such a big mouth - it's hard not to pay attention to you."
"And that's not all that my big mouth can do."
It took a couple of seconds for his remark to land, but when it did, her attempt to bite back was quickly engulfed by a fit of laughter. "Oh my God, you're incorrigible."
"I was just saying that I'm also very good at eating and drinking scotch. Get your mind out of the gutter, Olivia," he deadpanned, which only made her guffaw even harder.
"You're truly incorrigible, you know that?"
Rafael wrapped his arms around her waist without warning, sighing contentedly at the way she just melted into his touch, completely unbothered by the presence of people around them. Would she - they - ever have been so uninhibited and affectionate in public just a year ago? He didn't know, but he was more than content to find an answer to that question right now, in the middle of this suburban Target.
"Well…" he husked beside Olivia's ear, his lips grazing her neck for just long enough to make another wave of heat course through her, "now that you've mentioned it, it might be a good time to wrap this up and head home for dessert."
Her smouldering glare made clear she knew exactly what he was talking about, and Rafael felt his knees go weak. "Come on, let's go home," she smiled knowingly, one hand pushing the cart and the other coming to rest on top of his, quiet confidence wrapped up in that small gesture.
They chatted casually as they approached the check-out, but Rafael could barely remember what they'd discussed, instead basking in the way she laughed and leaned into his touch so confidently. He was struck by the way she looked at him like she was completely his, impervious to the curious glances of onlookers who were probably wondering what was making them laugh so loudly, and he wondered if he could live the rest of his life this way.
(He could. He just knew it.)
"Love you, mi amor," he remarked as they grabbed their bagged groceries and walked back to the car hand-in-hand.
He'd called her that countless times by this point, but somehow, this time felt the most confident, like every fibre of his being truly and wholly believed that she was his.
"Love you too, mi amor."
He loved calling her by that name; he loved the pride that swelled in his chest each time. But most of all, he loved when she said it back, knowing that he believed it.
The event had barely started, but Rita was already itching to make a quick exit.
She'd had a sinking feeling about this networking session from the moment she'd left her office an hour ago and realised too late that she'd forgotten to charge her phone and not signed an important document that her assistant had to get to a client by the end of the day - but now a monstrously tall lawyer she'd been trying to avoid was approaching her and there was no escape route available.
"Trevor. So nice to see you here." Her voice was dripping with sarcasm, and she didn't care enough to suppress the massive eye roll she sent in his direction. How someone could be 6' 5" yet have the charisma of a dry saltine cracker, she didn't know; neither did she understand why half the New York legal world fell at his feet when he was far from the brightest of the bunch. Thank God his date with Rafael back in Harvard hadn't worked out, she thought.
"Looking good, Rita," he smiled, to which she barely suppressed another eye roll. "Seems like we hardly run into each other nowadays."
And I'd like to keep things that way, she thought, but decided to bite her tongue. "Yes. I think the last time we talked was at…"
She racked her brains for the last time she'd been forced to talk to Trevor Langan - thankfully, he'd been taking a much lighter caseload of late (hardly his concern when he had his family's fortune to live off of), which meant that they hadn't rubbed shoulders in many legal settings in the last year. However, it did mean that the last time they'd talked was at…
"The church," he muttered. Rafael's funeral.
Rita had spent the past year rehearsing an appropriate reaction to mentions of Rafael's funeral: not the easiest of tasks when she knew perfectly well that her best friend was alive and well somewhere. But she eventually settled on a sombre "mmmm" and melancholic silence, which at least was somewhat rooted in truth. She'd still been cut off from her best friend, after all, with only a tiny Nokia burner cell as their form of intermittent communication. Usually, that was more than enough for her conversation partner to give their condolences and promptly move on to another topic, but that didn't seem like enough for Trevor, who turned as white as a sheet.
The sinking feeling that'd been weighing her down all evening long only plunged further when he pulled her in the opposite direction from the crowd and dipped his voice to an urgent whisper. "Look, I know this is going to sound insane, but…"
"But…?" She lifted her glass of wine to her lips before he could notice her nervousness. Whatever this was, it had to be about Rafael, and it did not sound good.
"You're going to say I'm crazy," he repeated, "but I was in D.C. last weekend and swear that I saw Rafael in a Target there."
And with that, Rita's sinking feeling hit rock bottom. She frantically searched her brain for something she could say to that, her heart pounding loudly in her ears. Rafael? In Washington D.C.? Had Trevor inadvertently discovered where Rafael - a very dead Rafael - had been relocated to?
"Here's the most unbelievable part - I think I saw him with Olivia."
She almost cursed audibly and wished that she'd taken Fin to this event as her plus-one because she suddenly felt that she couldn't rely on her sharp tongue to get her out of this situation. He'd seen Rafael with Olivia. It wasn't going to be easy to write this off as a case of mistaken identity.
"It was so sudden," Trevor continued nervously before Rita could get a word in (which would have irritated her to no end back in Harvard but was a welcome move today). "I was heading to the checkout, and I looked up and I saw these two people who looked so much like them. Then I heard him call her name as they were picking out groceries and…"
Rita was about to interject, only for him to start talking yet again. "And it wasn't the first time. I thought I saw them in a restaurant downtown last summer, but I couldn't be sure it was actually them, not until I saw them at Target and…"
"Trevor." Rita finally interrupted his nervous rambling with the steadiest voice she could muster and an iron grip on her wine glass to hide her trembling fingers. "I really don't think that's possible."
A bald lie, but she had to do what she could. He'd seen them in D.C. twice?
"We were at their funerals last spring," she asserted, with the same well-rehearsed sombre look she'd given him earlier. "It can't possibly be them."
"But-"
"Even if it was them, you and I both know that Rafael would never shop at Target. Come on."
She cringed and instantly hated how flimsy that sounded, but she had to do anything she could to convince him that the duo were dead and buried and not roaming around a suburban Target. How on earth had her evening devolved so rapidly from an annoyingly obnoxious but otherwise harmless legal event to this?
Trevor laughed wistfully at her remark. "Rafael wouldn't do that, would he?" Judging from his expression, he was at least 25% convinced that he needed to shut up - and that was a start.
"Anyway, Trevor," she interjected firmly, hoping that he somehow registered her sense of urgency despite trying desperately to play it cool, "I don't think that we should go around saying things like that. You know how many people were shocked - horrified - to lose Rafael like that. They don't need to hear that he's alive in D.C., or something to that effect."
I don't think YOU should go around saying that Rafael and Olivia are alive in Washington D.C. was what she really meant, but she couldn't think of a way to convey that message directly without sounding awfully suspicious, so this had to suffice. Hopefully it looked as though she disapproved of someone bringing up her closest friend like that, because if even that didn't work, they all were fucked.
"You're right," he said seriously, taking her words to heart. "I shouldn't."
She had to resist the urge to heave the biggest sigh of relief she had in a long time, and all this because of Trevor Langan.
Rita honestly didn't remember much of the rest of the conversation she'd had with Trevor, apart from a Harvard memory he'd shared and a couple of updates on his firm, but even the fact that his firm was a major rival to Rita's didn't make her ears perk up. The instant his attention was diverted by a retired judge who'd just walked through the door, she'd rested her unfinished wine on a nearby table and slipped out by the back entrance before anyone could notice, firing a text to Fin on her way out.
Are you free tonight? Situation at the event.
"Situation" was their code word for something related to Olivia and Rafael, and before long she'd abandoned her earlier plans to stop by the office and instead opened the door to Fin.
"Trevor Langan is sure he saw them? Twice?" Fin pressed when they were finally in the safety of her bedroom and dressed in more sleep-appropriate attire than his jeans and her black dress.
"I couldn't get more details without sounding suspicious, but he seemed very sure that it was them. And as much as I dislike Trevor, he's not the kind to conjure up something completely off-base."
"Which means that they could be a 3-hour drive from us."
Rita nodded silently as she processed that fact - something that she hadn't even thought about since returning from the event. D.C. was indeed exceptionally close to them, and the fact that Trevor had seen them twice made it even more plausible that they actually were living there now. Suddenly, she felt eager to look up legal conferences in the D.C. metropolitan area in the coming months.
"It makes sense, doesn't it? When we called them back here, they got back to Jersey on short notice," Fin added after a beat. "But… Langan spreading this information doesn't help anyone."
"That's exactly why I'm worried. Trevor seemed to buy my explanation, but there's no way we can physically stop him from telling other people what he saw. And he has so many big-shot legal contacts he could accidentally leak this to."
"Unless we tell him that Liv and Barba are in witness protection, which I'm sure we will not do."
"Definitely not," Rita agreed immediately. There was nothing that would convince her that Trevor Langan needed to be brought into this WITSEC mess. "We just have to hope he realises how deranged he'll sound telling people that Raf and Olivia are alive and well, after half the NYPD and DA's office attended the funerals."
Fin scratched his head doubtfully as he realised that his interactions with the attorney had been sorely limited over the years - Olivia had been the one to deal with him most of the time. "I don't know him that well, to be honest. Do you think Langan's enough of an issue that we'll need to go to the marshals about this?"
"What will happen if we tell them?" She nervously chewed her lip.
"Based on what I've been told, the marshals will have to evaluate how much of a security threat Langan is to their safety. If it's a small breach, things will probably go on as normal… but if he goes back on what he told you and spreads the news everywhere, they'll probably be relocated to somewhere far from D.C. New identities, new jobs. They'll have to start over again."
That possibility - and how matter-of-factly Fin spoke of it - sent a chill down Rita's spine. "Start all over again? We can't make them go through that again - it's barely been a year! It's going to be so much worse if they get sent to the middle of some godforsaken state."
"But we also want them alive." Fin countered. "What if Langan's loose lips are the reason that the sex trafficking ring tracks them down? Even if he doesn't, maybe we should play it safe and tell the marshals - better safe than sorry. We'll let them make that decision."
She gave Fin's reasoning serious thought. It seemed like the best course of action - after all, Fin was more familiar with the workings of WITSEC than she was. But surely Trevor Langan wasn't going to lead the trafficking ring's henchmen straight to them? Would she and Fin end up dragging Olivia and Rafael into even deeper hell than they'd already been dragged through last spring? The agony made it even easier for her to wish that Trevor Langan simply vanished from the face of the earth, albeit this time for much more serious reasons than just her petty law school rivalry with him.
"Look, it's late." Fin gently took Rita's hand and guided her towards the bed when he sensed her increasing frustration. "We don't have to decide right away; we'll sleep on it and talk about it again tomorrow."
Rita hastily slipped into bed and pulled the covers over them, unable to conjure words. Two hours ago she'd been dreading that damned event so much - if only she hadn't shown up and had her sense of security ripped to shreds by Trevor. But the alternate possibility - her never showing up to (hopefully) prevent Trevor from uttering a word about his sighting - scared her far more, and anxiety flooded her body even as Fin took her in his arms.
"Don't worry - we'll talk about this more in the morning," he assured her as he found her lips with his. "Nothing else we could have done today."
He was right - and there was no use staying up to agonise over this when her mind was so muddled. At least they knew one thing now, and it was a valuable piece of information: they finally had an idea of where Olivia and Rafael had been relocated to. Washington D.C. - things couldn't be THAT bad there, especially compared to the numerous other dead-end towns and cities she'd heard WITSEC had sent people to in the past.
And hopefully, if Trevor Langan kept his lips shut, things would stay that way for as long as possible.
To: Detective Odafin Tutuola [ ...]
From: Deputy US Marshal Edward Blake [ ...]
Subject: RE: Urgent Meeting Request
Dear Detective Tutuola,
Thank you for getting in contact. I was informed by my colleagues that you called my office this morning; apologies for missing you.
I am currently in the field investigating a case and will return your call as soon as possible.
Best wishes,
Deputy Marshal Edward Blake
Rafael couldn't help but groan audibly when his eyes shot open and caught sight of the nightstand clock announcing in neon that it was 3:12 am. He'd been jolted awake multiple times that night by that point and had tried everything he could - pulling the covers over himself, kicking the covers off, turning his pillow to the cold side, adding and then removing said pillow, all to no avail.
Just my luck that I have a morning class tomorrow, he sulked, and squeezed his eyes shut in a desperate attempt to fall back asleep. He blindly extended an arm in the direction of the other side of the bed, hoping that Olivia was within reach and the comfort of her skin against his would lull him back into slumber, only to feel nothing but cold fabric when he did. He looked over in a momentary panic and was relieved to realise that Olivia had simply drifted right to the end of her side of the bed… but much less relieved when he realised that something about what he was seeing didn't look right.
She was curled into a foetal position, both arms wrapped tightly around her knees, and he could feel so much tension emanate from her that it almost had physical weight. "Liv…?" he called out to her softly, hoping that she'd merely fallen asleep in that awkward position.
And then he heard it - a small, almost indiscernible, but definitely pained whimper that escaped her throat, which made him spring out of bed and towards the light switch. Sleepy as he was, he was sure he hadn't hallucinated it. 3 am or not, he wasn't going to rest easy until he found out exactly what was happening.
Rafael cautiously moved towards Olivia when she didn't budge from her position. "Liv?" he asked again, hoping that he'd simply misheard that whimper and was making a mountain out of a molehill. But then he saw the cold fear etched into her expression - one that reminded him of a time gone by that both of them hated talking about needlessly - and his heart sank.
He swallowed the lump in his throat and tried one last time. "Liv." Rafael gently placed his hand on her shoulder, careful to make sure that his voice was little more than a gentle, soothing whisper, because he had little clue what to expect.
That pained whimper he'd heard in the dark had been enough to make his pulse accelerate, but the sheer terror that flashed through her eyes and the way her body jolted when she felt his hand on her shoulder, in the now-brightness of the room, made his heart clench and stomach lurch. He'd known Olivia for nearly three years now and never had he seen her so terrified, except once - and it wasn't a memory neither of them ever wanted or needed to excavate.
"Mi amor." Rafael took a deep breath and cautiously wrapped his fingers around hers. "I'm here."
She was frozen in place, brown eyes brimming with unshed tears, and when Rafael pulled her closer to him he felt his own eyes sting with tears when he felt her body tremble in fear in his arms. He had a thousand questions racing through his mind, his hands never leaving hers. What on earth had caused this? Had she been awake for long? Why tonight, of all nights? But there was a time and place for those questions to be answered, and right now all she needed was his presence and his comfort.
Rafael wordlessly ran his hand through her hair and traced circles on her upper arm, so close that he could feel the rhythm of her heartbeat against his skin, at first frantic and frenzied but slowing the more she uncoiled in his arms. He kissed the top of her head when he felt her silent tears soak through his T-shirt, each caress a wordless I love you that reminded her she was here with him; that she was safe here. He didn't turn his head to look at the clock again, his earlier annoyance about being woken up at 3 am now completely wiped away and replaced with worry.
There was only one person he knew of that could bring the terror back into Olivia's expression like that.
He knew because he'd seen the case files.
He'd tried that case, put Olivia on the stand.
That monster had died in prison a long time ago, but Rafael knew better than anyone that some monsters couldn't simply be put to rest. Had this one come back to haunt her?
Rafael quickly turned the light off and tried to push back against his increasingly dark train of thought. Focus on Liv, he told himself repeatedly. She'd loosened the vice-like grip she had around his bicep and her breathing had slowed, but the silence in the room was thick, as though something was weighing heavily on them both and on the precipice of release. He didn't know which was worse, or if it was something they could handle before the sun rose.
Truthfully, he was just as afraid for Olivia as he was afraid for himself. What if his guess was correct - and worse, what could he possibly do to make her feel better? What chance did he have against a monster so demonic and cold-blooded that he'd returned to terrorise her from the grave?
Rafael didn't know how much Olivia had divulged to Brian Cassidy back in the day, or if she'd even told him at all. But Rafael had learned about William Lewis in two waves; two rounds of seeing up close just how that monster had forced his way into Olivia's consciousness.
The first was the case files he'd pored over well in advance of the highly-publicised trial, each detail so excruciating to read that he had to resist the urge to reach for his glass of scotch each time he turned a page. The last thing Olivia needed was a prosecutor who missed an important detail in a Macallan-induced haze, so he swallowed the growing lump in his throat and forced himself to read on, fuelled only by his insatiable need to put that monster away for life. It felt like the most important case he'd ever fought for: partly from the sense of responsibility he felt to get this psychopathic serial killer off the streets of New York, but also for Olivia.
The second came months later when Lewis had long died in that prison brawl but the scars he'd left had only just started to heal. They'd laugh over drinks at Forlini's and retreat to one of their apartments, where the layers of pain started to peel away. He'd learned from the way she flinched ever so slightly when he first touched her and she looked at him as though she needed to be extra certain that it was Rafael lying on top of her. He'd seen the way her eyes darted straight to his bed the first time she ever entered his apartment and the relief in them when she saw no trace of a bed with an iron frame. He felt the way she inhaled his scent each time she lay against his bare chest; the relief that poured over her when his Terre D'Hermes took her far away from the stale alcohol on Lewis' breath.
And he'd seen her scars. Rafael had felt her scan his eyes for doubt whenever she pulled her blouse off; he noticed the sharp intake of breath she took whenever his hands had roamed near the mottled flesh. So he'd learned not to mention them, because colleagues who slept together didn't sign up for those discussions - not until they'd left New York and he'd kissed those scars for the first time, and that wall had finally fallen.
He'd learned many things over time, but it seemed like there were more waiting to reveal themselves to him, and he wondered if he'd stumbled upon round three tonight. But that wasn't the person that Olivia needed right now, and so he squeezed his eyes shut once more and tried his best to focus on the feeling of her skin against his.
"I saw him."
Her voice, seemingly unshackled by the darkness, punctured the silence. Rafael could feel a chill go down his spine knowing that Olivia didn't even have to say his name - they both knew who exactly she was referring to. His suspicion had been confirmed.
"I thought he was gone forever. I haven't dreamt about him, thought about him, in so long."
He'd seen the way her eyes had glistened with unshed tears as he'd prepared her for the trial; the way she'd folded her hands on her lap to prevent them from trembling each time she spoke, even when it was just the two of them in his office. He didn't need to see her face or read her every move to know that she was terrified, and he hated that the Lewis who'd died in prison still lived on in her nightmares.
"Do you want to talk about it?"
Olivia paused for so long that Rafael was mentally prepared to close the conversation at that, but nothing prepared him for her broken, shaky whisper - or the way she trembled in his arms in the split-second before she spoke. "We… we were back in that beach house…" she choked out with great difficulty.
"Take your time." He pressed a long kiss to the top of her head, relieved that it seemed to steady her, even if just for a few seconds.
"He had me pinned down, I couldn't get up… and I was in so much pain." A fresh stream of tears soaked into his shirt, and Rafael swallowed the wave of nausea that shot up his gullet as he tried his hardest not to linger on that gruesome mental image.
"He's dead, Liv," Rafael whispered reassuringly. "He can't hurt you again."
Her sigh echoed through the room and settled over them, its weight silently crushing. "I know, but…"
Olivia didn't have to finish her sentence for both of them to know what she meant. William Lewis was dead, but his ghost was still haunting them, a spectre of savagery looming over their new lives. And lying next to her, her now rapidly beating heart pressed against his chest, Rafael felt an oppressive unease grow in his chest. How could he possibly exorcise that demon? The closest he'd ever stood to that monster was facing him in a courtroom, and all the case files and interviews in the world weren't enough to help him understand just how his reign of terror had scarred Olivia.
But there was no other choice or person. He had to be that person for Olivia; the one who could give her refuge and help her rebuild the walls that Lewis had destroyed overnight. The same one who'd burnt the midnight oil for weeks on end to build an airtight case and help her stare her tormentor down with all the ammunition they needed. Only now he wasn't just the ADA working on the case - he and Olivia had something so much more now, and a wave of protectiveness seized him.
"Is there anything you want me to get for you? Water? Tea?"
"No," she muttered shakily. "Just stay here, please."
"Of course." Rafael wiped the last of her tears with his palm, one hand gently cupping her cheek while the other ran his fingers through her hair in the hopes that his simple action would calm her down enough for her to fall asleep again - and sure enough, he was relieved when he felt her slowly uncoil against him, her breathing slowing to a more relaxed tempo. She didn't speak again, but the soft kiss she pressed to his chest as her eyes closed was a wordless thank you that meant more than any declaration of love ever could, because she trusted him - and when it came to William Lewis, that safety was all he wanted to give her.
But as Olivia finally dozed off and the air in the room settled, Rafael realised that he was the one who couldn't drift back into slumber.
What did all of this mean?
More than a year had passed since they'd left New York, and while the topic of Lewis had inevitably come up in conversation from time to time, Olivia certainly wasn't having nightmares featuring him, let alone ones where he'd returned to terrorise her. There was little reason for Rafael to assume that a single nightmare was symbolic of something deeper, but this also wasn't just any ordinary nightmare, was it?
They'd been living in bliss all these months, and suddenly that bliss reeked only of one dangerous word: complacency. All of a sudden it seemed foolish to believe that they'd never be tracked down or be haunted by ghosts from the past - a lifetime spent in New York couldn't simply be written away, whether in a single year or ten. William Lewis? The sex trafficking ring that'd put them here in the first place? Some perp with a thirst for blood that he or Olivia had put away years ago? Who was to say that they were completely safe here?
No, he couldn't cave to these irrational fears. The marshals would have called immediately if there was even the smallest sign of a security breach, and surely Nguyen and Blake had their ears to the ground constantly. They hadn't had any unfortunate run-ins with anyone from New York, at least from what he knew, and their one trip back to Manhattan had passed without incident because of Rita and Fin's meticulous planning. The last thing Olivia needed was another source of worry.
The last thing Olivia needs is another source of worry.
He repeated that to himself until he slipped into a very uneasy slumber.
The hot water rained down on Olivia's skin and turned it an angry red, but the only red she saw was the rage that filled her when his face entered her mind: the face that she thought had finally faded into the recesses of her memory.
After all, she wasn't Olivia Benson anymore; the Olivia Benson who received reminders every single day that depraved individuals like William Lewis were inflicting unspeakable pain on the people of her city. She was Olivia Davis now, a Portland native who'd happily settled in D.C. as a charity manager in a cushy office. There was simply no need to look back on those dark days when she'd been given a rare chance at a clean slate, but William Lewis still had his way of invading her mind and slumber.
I don't deserve this.
She grabbed her loofah and started scrubbing, each stroke chipping away at the layers of dirtiness she felt coating her skin until her arm turned sore and she felt tears prick the corners of her eyes again, mingling with the stream of water that poured down on her. Olivia didn't know how long she'd stood under the shower, scrubbing aggressively and letting her tears fall and suppressing the agonised sob that threatened to burst from her throat.
But by the time she stood in front of the mirror and let the steam envelop her, she was numb; hollow. The towel she was clutching slipped from her fingers and pooled on the floor, and Olivia no longer saw red when her eyes raked over her naked body in the mirror. All she saw were the scars Lewis had burned into her skin, each one permanently mottled under her fingers.
She wondered what ran through Rafael's mind each time he ran his fingers over her scars.
Did William Lewis' face enter his mind? Or worse - did he picture her in that Long Island beach house, fill those crime scene photos from the trial with her trembling, delirious figure?
She wondered what had run through Rafael's mind when he'd reached for her the night before.
Had he already traced her nightmare to its monstrous source? Had he already replayed the events of the trial and all the times she'd almost burst into tears in his office, before she'd even named Lewis?
How often did he think of that summer?
Did he ever look at her and see weakness?
Suddenly, the air felt suffocating and Olivia flung the bathroom door open. She cast her eyes on Rafael's sleeping figure just a few feet away, his chest slowly rising and falling under the covers. She couldn't help but heave a quiet sigh of relief knowing that her long shower hadn't woken him up, especially when he had a class to be at in a couple of hours. If she didn't deserve to relive this hell, then Rafael deserved it even less.
But then she noticed one arm draped protectively over the top of her empty pillow, as though reaching for her even in slumber, and the doubt that'd been plaguing her suddenly felt miles away. Olivia turned back to the mirror as the morning sun from the window beside their bed flooded the bathroom, dancing over the rough skin of her scars and painting them in a new light. She'd survived. She'd made it through that nightmare, and many more in between. She'd found her way into Rafael's arms amidst all the twists and turns that'd followed.
And most miraculously of all, he hadn't turned his back on her.
She closed her eyes and remembered the way he'd kissed each one the night she'd first told him she loved him; how his fingers still ghosted each one so tenderly when they made love. And she pictured the way his bright emerald eyes pierced right through every layer of hurt and pain and saw her - scars and pain and all - and still looked at her like he had all he ever wanted. Somehow, he'd painted all her scars in a brand new light.
Olivia felt like she didn't deserve: him; his kind of unconditional love. For God's sake, he'd seen the crime scene photos and still loved her in his uncomplicated, cuttingly sincere way; there was no malice or ulterior motive in his eyes. How he could love someone so broken, she wished she knew - he'd still taken her into his arms, baggage and bruises and all.
Hopefully, he'd still take her into his arms when he woke up and saw the events of the night before in the morning light.
She didn't know what to say to him; how he was going to look at her when he looked at her in the morning light and remembered what had happened the night before. But she'd made it through the night. She was going to slip back into bed with the person she loved; she wanted to feel him on her skin, curl up in his warmth and feel her insecurities melt away.
Somehow, she was going to be okay.
Olivia slipped on one of his old T-shirts from their dresser and caught a whiff of his Terre D'Hermes, basking in the warm comfort it had always brought her since the first time they'd kissed in the hallway of her apartment. She cautiously climbed back into bed, relieved to see that Rafael hadn't moved an inch from earlier; he had to be up in a couple of hours and she wasn't about to become the reason he missed his-
"Liv?"
Damn, she thought she'd been quiet enough. For a second she wondered if she should pretend to be sound asleep in the hopes that he'd drift back into slumber, but then she felt his arms instinctively seek her, eyes still half-shut, and there was nothing more she wanted to do than ensconce herself in his embrace.
He was silent for a while, fingers tracing patterns on her upper arm as she cocooned herself against his chest, and Olivia was grateful for the silence, her mind still an incoherent blur as she pondered how to bring up the elephant in the room - or if she should at all. It was clear from his body language that the topic was on his mind; his fingers twitched in the way they always did when he was nervous.
"Did you sleep well?" he finally asked after a long pause, his tone uncharacteristically cautious.
"I should be the one asking you that." She raised her head to look him in the eye and sure enough, exhaustion was written all over his features. "I'm sorry about last night."
"Hey, hey… don't apologise," Rafael replied sincerely, but all she could do was swallow the lump in her throat, guilt flooding her. Why did she feel like crying again? Here she was looking at Rafael, his green eyes tired and dull and worry carved into his expression, and he was the one asking if she'd slept well.
"I didn't want to wake you," Olivia added weakly, as though that were an antidote to his exhaustion. "I'm sorry."
"Liv, it's alright." He cupped the side of her face with his palm so lovingly that she suppressed yet another wave of tears. "I just want to know if you're okay."
"Would it make a difference if I told you that I was?"
His worried frown made it clear that he wasn't accepting that for an answer, but neither did he press her for more details.
"You showered," he remarked after a beat, as he ran his fingers through her still-damp hair, sweeping the strands off her forehead.
"Yeah," Olivia whispered back, her voice momentarily catching in her throat. "I felt…"
Dirty? Disgusting? Violated? All of the above?
"I just needed to." She almost felt like she needed another shower; suddenly one wasn't enough to erase the layer of filth her nightmare had left behind.
"And I was looking at my scars. In the mirror." That admission slipped out before she could catch herself, and Olivia winced when she felt him tense up, for just a second, beside her. She could see the wheels in Rafael's head turn - he was frantically searching for something he could say to that. And she didn't blame him, because she would too if she had to be in his position.
What purpose did bringing this up even serve? She knew that Rafael didn't look at her scars with disgust, but the wave of guilt that'd suddenly come over her seemed to drown out any rational thought, and she tugged on the T-shirt in the hopes that the fabric would cover as much of her skin as possible, insecurity starting to eat away at her.
They'd shared a bed for a year - that was one year of him looking at those scars; one year of him assuring her that they didn't make her any less beautiful. But she was going to wear those scars for the rest of her life; how long would it take for Rafael's love and assurance to expire?
"I know we've talked about them before, and I know that you're fine with them… but I still wish that you didn't have to see them," she admitted, and that was when it finally dawned upon her that this was what she'd wanted to say to him all along; the words that'd weighed her down as she looked in the mirror just ten minutes ago.
"Olivia, please," Rafael begged, hands desperately clutching hers under the covers. "Don't say that."
Another wave of hot tears pricked the corners of her eyes, but she refused to let them fall. "I thought I finally was okay with looking at them again, but today was the first time in a long time that I remembered how… disgusting they feel."
"What Lew- he did to you was disgusting," he snarled, but his raw anger melted away quickly. "But your scars aren't disgusting. They never will be."
Rafael ran his fingers over the thin fabric of her shirt, instinctively finding the spots where the scars dotted her skin. "You came home. You put him in jail. And that's what matters. You survived."
"And…" his voice suddenly was choked with emotion, "I mean it every time I say you're beautiful, Liv."
Olivia's cheeks flushed and she instinctively averted his gaze, but Rafael slipped a hand under her chin and motioned for her to look him in the eye. "Don't care how fucking corny it sounds, but I promise that your scars don't make you any less beautiful."
His sudden injection of that profanity took her by surprise, so much that she couldn't help the smile that crested on her face, and she instantly felt Rafael relax against her, and the pain pressing against her chest suddenly felt lighter… God, she loved this man.
"I love you. Always have, always will… even when you steal my clothes," he teased, smiling softly as another kiss landed on her lips.
"You like it when I wear your clothes."
"Well, I'm not going to argue with that."
"Giving up so easily, Counselor?"
Instead of a pithy retort, Rafael chose instead to take her in his arms, pressing a series of soft kisses to her forehead and cheek until his lips landed on hers, each one slow and deliberate and more loving than the last. Olivia felt her eyelids grow heavy as she relaxed into his embrace, and she could almost feel Rafael's relief all over her skin. It still amazed her how attuned he was to her - so much that he knew her even better than she knew herself sometimes.
It wasn't that her previous partners had never tried. David had always been gentlemanly and considerate, and she'd watched Brian evolve from his impulsive boyish self into someone whom she knew truly did care for her. Perhaps it was one unintended consequence of Rafael going against Lewis in court - he knew the details of the case so well that she didn't have to relive her hell explaining them to him again. Or maybe it was the luxury of time that they now had, where they weren't constantly being called away by their jobs. But Olivia couldn't help but feel that it came from something else that ran even deeper; that the two of them, united by this crazy experience of exile, had just fallen into sync somehow.
Rafael dipped his head to press another soft kiss to her forehead, and Olivia basked in that feeling of comfort. Suddenly, all analysis felt futile - all that mattered was that she'd woken from that nightmare with him right beside her, and the thought of many more days of that made everything seem less bleak.
She was going to be okay.
They'd spent many mornings curled up in bed together, the minutes ticking by languidly and unhurriedly, and this morning was no exception. Olivia liked this feeling of normalcy; the feeling that last night's nightmare had been nothing more than that: just a nightmare that had ended. Maybe she'd been overthinking this and all she needed was for normal life to resume without a hitch.
And that included the sudden realisation that they both were going to have to get up for work eventually.
"Are you leaving for class soon?"
Rafael sighed, mildly annoyed at being brought back to reality, and craned his neck to check the clock. "I was thinking of calling in sick today and staying here with-"
"No," she interrupted him gently, "go for class. I'll be fine."
"Sure?" He furrowed his brows.
"Yeah. Wouldn't be fair to your students commuting in for class."
"But-"
"I'm serious, Rafael," Olivia replied, hoping that her use of his full name would get his attention. "I'll probably take the morning off, maybe get some work done after lunch. You should probably get ready."
She could see him scan her eyes for any signs of doubt as he reluctantly tore himself from the sheets. "I don't want to leave you here."
"Don't worry about it. It's just a few hours, anyway."
Her smile seemed convincing enough to get him out of bed and into the bathroom, where he got dressed and gathered his things with an uncharacteristic jitteriness. She didn't miss the way he snuck constant glances at her, as though needing to reassure himself that leaving for work was the right call. On a typical morning he'd be out of the door in good time for his class, but today he was cutting it exceptionally close, and his usual sense of urgency had all but disappeared by the time he perched himself on Olivia's side of the bed, taking both her hands in his.
"Promise me you'll text if you need anything, okay?" His green eyes blazed with concern, and for a second Olivia wondered if she actually did need him around after all, especially with the way his fingers laced with hers so reassuringly,
But she sucked in a deep breath and steadied herself. "Promise."
"I'll get lunch for us on the way home?"
"No, it's fine. I may go to the office later."
He frowned sceptically - was she really thinking of going to work? - but knew better than to pursue the topic. "I'll see you later, okay?"
"Yeah. Don't worry about me, Professor Marquez," she winked.
That was the assurance he needed to finally get started with the work day, and with one last, lingering kiss, he grabbed his briefcase and slipped out the door. This was normalcy, wasn't it? The more they dwelled in old memories, the closer she was to that dark time, and it was for the best that they both proceeded with their new lives as normally as they could. She was going to be fine, she reminded herself as she sank into the covers. It was just one nightmare. Nothing more than that. She'd probably forget about it in a matter of days, anyway, and they'd be able to close the book on this interruption.
Still, in the sudden silence of the room, the air felt unsettlingly heavy. Was this something she could just brush off? Would going to work later that day take her mind off things, perhaps? She had to be overthinking this.
Now she couldn't get his troubled expression out of her mind; the one that'd been etched all over his face since she'd woken him up last night.
What exactly was bothering him so much? Was his worry confined to whether she'd be alright on her own, or was he also trying his hardest not to read too much into Lewis' sudden reappearance?
No, she admonished herself. All these thoughts are useless. It was just one nightmare.
She never did make it to the office that day. When Rafael burst through the front door a few hours later, having driven home dangerously fast after his morning class, he found her sound asleep in bed, still in the T-shirt she'd stolen that morning. Only now he could see concern and fear etched into her features, and his stomach lurched.
All these thoughts are useless. It was just one nightmare. It was easy enough to tell himself that, but the way that Olivia flinched when he climbed into bed next to her was enough of a sign that this wasn't over yet.
"You're going to be fine, mi amor," he whispered when she trembled in his arms, and all they could hope for was that it was actually true.
INCIDENT REPORT: PRIVATE & CONFIDENTIAL
Case(s):
Olivia Benson (relocated to Bethesda, MD)
Rafael Barba (relocated to Bethesda, MD)
Filed by Deputy US Marshal Edward Blake
[Report for Olivia Benson was filed by Marshal Blake on behalf of Marshal Nguyen, as Marshal Nguyen is on annual leave.]
Detective Odafin Tutuola, a former colleague of Olivia's in the NYPD, contacted me informing me that a former friend of Rafael and Olivia's, Trevor Langan (attorney) spotted Rafael and Olivia in a Target store in the Washington D.C. metropolitan area. The date and time of the sighting are unknown but took place in the last fortnight. Langan did not approach Olivia and Rafael. This was made known to Det. Tutuola through attorney Rita Calhoun, whom Langan approached at a legal event.
Due to the nature of the breach, the US Marshals' office has advised that low-level security measures are adequate while the breach is being investigated further. We are prepared to escalate security measures should our investigations show further breaches. I have informed Olivia and Rafael of the incident and advised them to take extra safety precautions until further notice, including keeping an eye out for suspicious vehicles or individuals in or around their apartment building and workplaces. Furthermore, I have advised them to confine their summer travel plans to within a reasonable driving distance of the DMV area just in case they need to be recalled or placed under more extensive protection.
A security detail will comb their apartment and apartment building and patrol the surrounding area for at least the next fortnight. Olivia and Rafael have also been instructed to carry a copy of the marshals' contact details with them at all times.
Rafael and Olivia didn't talk about the Lewis nightmare after that morning; at least not directly.
She didn't shed a single tear, but he knew better than that - she was still hurting; still fearful for days after that. He saw it in the way that she stayed a second longer in his embrace each time, or how she waited for him to go to bed before slipping under the covers and burrowing herself in his chest until her eyes finally fluttered shut. One time he'd woken up in the middle of the night to find her sitting on the couch in a half-daze, and the eviscerating look she'd sent his way was his cue to go back to bed, where he spent another restless night.
But as the days passed and the summer heat surged, she couldn't help but wonder: had she brought this upon herself? Maybe all she needed to do was to stop scaring herself. She went about her daily routine as normally as she could; still made coffee in the morning and met him at Matchbox Pizza for their weekly dinner date. Laughter crept back into their conversations, and she felt herself relax back into his touch every night - maybe she'd been overthinking that nightmare after all. And Rafael's relief was palpable: the first time she'd laughed heartily again, just over a week after that rocky night, he'd smiled so widely that Olivia herself couldn't help but smile too.
She was going to be okay. They were going to be okay, and their summer was going to get back on track soon enough.
Or so they thought.
Unusually, it'd been Blake to call them this time with bad news - Nguyen was apparently using up the PTO she'd accumulated - and Rafael couldn't help but jump in his seat when he saw his phone light up while grading papers in his office. And when he'd learned that Trevor Langan had spotted them in Target - and told Rita about it - the pit in his stomach re-emerged.
"Trevor saw us? Trevor Langan?" Olivia gasped when Rafael recounted his conversation with Blake a couple of hours later.
"Twice, apparently. So it was him at Capitol Grille all those months ago. And the second time he saw us was at Target, the night we stopped by for ice cream…"
"Trevor shops at Target?" she blurted out, but quickly caught herself.
"Apparently." Under ordinary circumstances, they would have lingered on the joke for much longer, but this wasn't a time for mirth. "Blake doesn't think it's that serious of a threat - Rita probably got Trevor to shut up - but he still thinks we need to be vigilant."
"Vigilant how?"
"The usual - keep an eye out for anyone suspicious tailing us, have the marshals' contact details on us all the time, not venture too far from here if we go on vacation so they can get to us easily if anything happens. Blake's sending a security detail to comb the apartment and an unmarked car to patrol the building for a while."
Olivia frowned. "I hope we can trust Blake on this one. Is there really not much else that can be done?"
His resigned sigh made it clear that he was thinking the same. "Blake's doing all he can. Unless he calls again with another update, I guess we'll have to go on as normally as we can."
"I'm more worried for you," she admitted, her voice shaky. "Your commute's so much longer than mine, and…"
You were never a cop was the unspoken half of that sentence, and as much as they could pretend it didn't matter, Rafael wasn't about to lie to himself - he certainly didn't have Olivia's sharp eye or hyper-alertness in situations like this. But there were other things he could do, and he had to at least try.
"I'll talk to my department chair and ask if I can move some of my lectures to Skype or record them in advance. We'll make it work." Rafael reached over the counter and laced his fingers with hers, although he was sure he needed the reassurance just as much as she did. "This will be over soon."
Was it a bald lie? Rafael wished he knew, but there was no point pursuing the subject any further when there was so much uncertainty in the air. She nodded silently, and neither of them chose to press the issue as they retreated to bed for the night, their dinner mostly untouched.
"Raf?"
He'd been staring blankly at the ceiling for minutes, the day's events barrelling through his mind, when her voice punctured the silence. "I was just thinking… this summer really hasn't been going well, has it?"
They laughed dryly in unison, feeling the air in the room become lighter for just a second. "You can say that again."
"In all seriousness, though," she interjected earnestly, "I'm glad you're here."
Instinctively, he knew exactly what she was referring to. The wave of emotion that washed over Rafael was almost indescribable; suddenly he was the confused, overwhelmed person, who'd almost shut her out forever, that he'd been a year ago. Had it really been only a year? It felt like they'd been here a whole lifetime.
(In a way, they'd been here a whole lifetime.)
"I'm glad you're here too."
The thought of spending the last year completely alone - a reality he'd almost created for himself - sent a chill down his spine. He never would have survived without her to keep him anchored - and even if Olivia hadn't struggled as openly as he had, he had a good feeling that she felt the same way he did.
For all they knew, this situation with Trevor was going to end up nothing more than a close shave; a scare to rattle them out of their complacency. They could even argue that they needed a scare like that; they'd gotten so comfortable with their new lives that they'd almost forgotten how forcefully WITSEC had yanked them from their old ones.
However, if this wasn't just a close shave they could brush off, Rafael realised, they were going to need each other more than ever. He couldn't decide if that scared or comforted him more.
But tonight he decided to take comfort in that knowledge, and fall asleep with Olivia in his arms like it was just another ordinary summer night, without the threat of someone new on their tail. Denial was only going to get him so far, but for now, for her sake, it was easier to stay there.
Update on the Benson and Barba search?
Going as planned. We've identified a few possible locations.
Good. Keep me posted.
Will do. Not long now.
Their vacation wasn't supposed to happen. After Blake's strongly worded advice to stay close to Bethesda for at least the rest of the summer, Rafael and Olivia had practically ruled out the idea of a vacation - it wasn't like either of them was in the mood for a getaway, anyway. But when one of Rafael's colleagues casually mentioned a lovely bed & breakfast in a small town a couple of hours away, his interest was piqued immediately - and it quickly dawned on Rafael that a getaway just might be the antidote to their melancholy. And when he'd cautiously pitched the idea to Olivia, she'd agreed in a heartbeat, much to his surprise, so a booking was quickly made.
Truthfully, however, he'd spent the last week wondering if he should cancel their reservation. Olivia had been equal parts bone-weary and jumpy, hours of scouring their surroundings for even the smallest signs that they were being trailed taking a toll on her. On the surface it looked like they were passing their days normally - work, strolls around the neighbourhood, brunch on weekends - but the cop in her had stirred back to life, and playing Olivia Benson and Olivia Davis had worn her out completely. So much so that she'd fallen asleep in the car on the way to the bed & breakfast in small-town Virginia, her shoes kicked off and legs crossed in the shotgun seat, and Rafael almost didn't want to wake her up after seeing how peaceful she looked for the first time in weeks.
She had her way of surprising him, though. Not even ten seconds after he'd set their bag down in the corner and she had wrapped her arms around his waist from behind, trailing chaste kisses down his cheek and neck with a warm affection he'd missed in the last few weeks. Then her lips landed on the spot on his neck she just knew drove him crazy and her hands wandered towards the buttons of his shirt, and he'd picked her up and carried her to the bed, in awe at how much she'd relaxed since leaving home that morning.
They'd gone weeks without making love but neither was in a hurry; she pulled him on top of her and they kissed slowly and languidly, their affection suddenly free from the cage of anxiety their apartment had become. Rafael tenderly brushed a lock of hair from Olivia's forehead and she looked up into his emerald eyes, shining with sincerity and love and adoration she didn't deserve, and a bolt of electricity coursed right through her.
"I love you, Raf," she whispered as he brushed a finger over her swollen lower lip, never once breaking eye contact, and she thought she could burst from just how much she needed him to know that; that the uncertainty of the last few weeks hadn't rattled how much she loved and adored him.
It amazed her how his eyes still lit up every time she said it to him. "I love you too, Liv."
He moved cautiously at first, the events of the last few weeks probably still on his mind, even as heat seeped into their kisses and their breaths grew ragged. Olivia felt herself sink into the comfort of the mattress, relishing the familiar feeling of Rafael's weight on top of her and how well he knew her body.
"Is this okay?" He paused and looked her in the eye, tone serious.
"Yeah, it's okay," she nodded, confidence seeping into her voice. "I want you."
"Just say the word and I'll stop, okay?" he reassured her as he slipped his hands under her blouse, caressing her bare skin. She shivered ever-so-slightly when his fingers ghosted the mottled scars she'd kept hidden for the last few weeks, and Rafael instinctively paused, half-expecting her to ask him to stop, but instead, she took a deep breath and pulled her blouse over her head in one smooth motion, as he watched in stunned silence.
"Holy fuck." The words tumbled out of his mouth as his gaze trailed down her body, and he felt his cock twitch in his pants. "You're so beautiful, Liv."
His green eyes were brighter than she'd ever seen them, boring right through her with desire so intense that she almost had to look away. She fought the instinct to search his expression for any hint of doubt, or a sign that he was stretching the truth, because she knew him better than that - there was nothing but sincerity and love in the way he looked at her.
"You're not too bad yourself," she smiled, and she could feel the last shreds of her insecurity disappear when his melodious laughter filled her ears. Olivia captured his mouth with hers with vigour as her hands quickly made work of his zipper, freeing his erect cock, and a new wave of heat bloomed in her.
They'd performed this dance countless times, sometimes languidly as the sun dipped and other times frenzied in the minutes they shared before rushing out the front door for work, but with him, it never felt rehearsed; there was always a newness to his touch that made her skin flush and heart race. When he slipped his cock into her she marvelled at just how well he filled her, how quickly they found a rhythm, and how her name fell from his lips like a prayer. Dios, you feel so good, Liv, he'd sputtered when he'd felt her walls clench around his cock, and Olivia was sure she'd never heard something more erotic - or loving - in her life.
And when they collapsed on the bed, breathless and flushed, Olivia looked over at him, and even in her haze, it had never been clearer to her: there was no one else she wanted to perform this dance with.
Maybe even for the rest of her life.
But for now, all she wanted was a repeat performance, and her wish was granted when his lips trailed down her body and landed between her thighs, tongue swirling over her swollen nub until she saw stars; she could feel him smile devilishly against her as he curled two fingers into her wetness, and let herself become completely undone, completely helpless to his touch. He couldn't get enough of her - just the way their eyes met made her toes curl - and sparks exploded in her chest with every touch.
"As much as I don't want this to stop…" he panted, as he collapsed on top of her yet again, "don't we have a lunch reservation coming up soon?"
"Lunch can wait," she practically growled, hips swirling against him possessively. "Need you first."
That was all it took for his cock to twitch again, and her searing kiss stirred it back to life. "You're right, lunch can wait."
"I knew it."
"And you still say that I'm incorrigible."
"We're on vacation," she retorted, pulling him back on top of her and mashing her lips against his. "Now, shut up and fuck me."
She - and her devilish smile - was right. Lunch could wait.
There were many things Olivia had been good at in her lifetime - AP Calculus, softball, finding the best-hidden dinner spots in New York City, and police work (of course). She'd always prided herself on being a fast learner; there weren't many skills and talents too far out of her repertoire, and considering how poor Serena Benson had been at parenting in general, Olivia could safely say that she was a self-taught jack of all trades.
But only when she'd long reached adulthood did she finally learn what it truly meant to laugh - in fact, she had to reach age 47 to truly learn what it meant. She'd always known the polite laughter of a first date or kiss-ass meeting at 1PP, or the raucous kind that echoed through the hallways of her college dorms and even the precinct locker room. Now she was feeling for herself what true laughter was, in its most unadulterated and uninhibited form, when she felt like she was glowing from the inside out and her cheeks hurt so much from smiling.
And she was laughing, she realised, because Rafael had pulled her into his embrace on the dance floor in a quiet restaurant in suburban Virginia, where 80s power ballads played in the background but all she could hear was her name on his lips and his unrestrained, hearty laughter as he spun her around and swept her off her feet - literally. She couldn't remember the last time she'd danced, especially in public, but when he'd risen from his seat and stretched out his hand with a wink her hesitation had disappeared in seconds.
What reason did she have to hold back? They were in a town where no one recognised them, on a long-awaited vacation from responsibility, and it was him, who certifiably was the best dancer she'd ever met and not only because of his Cuban blood. When he danced, rhythm flowed through him and right through her, and between beats where she tried not to step on his feet, he was looking at her with the most smouldering yet affectionate gaze she'd ever seen, and she could do nothing else but laugh as the last of the tension of the past month fled her body and soul.
She could stay like this for days; hours. In this moment, dancing with him and feeling his hand protectively caressing the small of her back, there was absolutely nothing else she needed.
Only Rafael could make her laugh the way she did. Once upon a time, she'd measured people's worth in the deep talks, painful fights, and the kind of embrace she wanted to return home to each night. Now that she'd been through all of those with Rafael, there was only one barrier left to break, and he'd broken it completely - it was as though he had punched a sunroof and finally let the light in.
"You're a surprisingly good dancer, mi amor," he smiled as he deftly spun her around.
"Only surprisingly?"
He had a mischievous twinkle in his eye. "When was the last time you danced?"
She paused to linger on that question, which was enough of a sign in itself. Brian had never been one to dance; in fact, he didn't hesitate a flat-out "no" even at that all-inclusive resort in the Bahamas. David Haden? Intelligent and charming, he certainly was, but a dancer? Definitely not - and nothing about him brought out this side to her.
"You know what? Maybe this actually is my first real time dancing."
It didn't matter if that actually was the truth or not because this time certainly felt like the first - and the time she wanted to etch into her memory.
"Then we'd better make this one count," he winked.
As though someone had read their minds, a slow ballad piped through the speakers and Rafael pulled her in close until their foreheads grazed and she felt almost invincible in his embrace. Olivia inhaled his scent - a mix of his usual woodsy Terre d'Hermes, mingled with the scotch he'd sipped from over dinner and her floral perfume - and thought she could bask in his comfort forever.
He tenderly traced the curve of her cheek with his finger. "Have I told you how beautiful you are, Liv?"
"A few hours ago in bed, yes," she remarked, eliciting a chuckle from him.
"I know, but…" he smiled, tone suddenly serious again, "you really, really are."
Her cheeks turned pink and she instinctively averted his gaze, but he placed a finger under her chin and motioned for her to look at him. "You make me feel like the luckiest man alive."
She wanted to make a witty retort; something about how uncharacteristic it was of Rafael to say that, how he'd become mushy all of a sudden. But she couldn't, not when she could see and hear how sincere he was, and he was holding her so protectively. Olivia could feel her eyes starting to water. "Don't know what I'd do without you."
Rafael pulled her in closer and she rested her head on his shoulder, letting him take the lead as the slow piano ballad gave way to a song that Olivia vaguely recognised from her college days, but one that Rafael clearly knew like the back of his hand, judging from how he started singing along immediately.
"Come on, don't tell me you don't know this one. Why do you lock yourself up in these chains…"
"You never told me you could sing."
"Sergeant Benson, I'm sure you figured it out hearing me sing in the car and all around the apartment for the past year."
"I'll paraphrase - you never told me you could sing like that." He'd always been able to carry a tune, but on this dance floor he'd never sounded better or more resonant; his tone was so smooth that Olivia's knees suddenly felt weak.
"Ten years of musical theatre does that to you. Would've been eleven if not for Alex stealing the lead from me in the ninth-grade musical," he scowled, to which she could barely hold back her laughter. Why wasn't she surprised that he still remembered that?
"Hold on for one more day…" he crooned with a flourish, and his jubilant (and slightly smug) smile was electric.
"I'm making you sing the next time I can't fall asleep."
(She meant it as a joke, of course, but she also knew that Rafael would do that in a heartbeat if she asked.)
"That I can do - or a good old orgasm always works," he winked as his hand brushed across her ass ever-so-briefly, earning him a playful smack on the arm. However, she also didn't miss the lust that flashed in his eyes, reminding her of that morning's spectacular high, and heat pooled between her thighs. "For now though, I'm sure this is going to tire you out."
Before she could open her mouth to ask him what he meant, Rafael seamlessly shifted his posture and spun her around flawlessly, earning an impressed cheer from an elderly couple nearby and a surprised squeal from Olivia. "Holy crap. What happened to teaching me how to dance?"
"No better way to learn than being thrown right into the deep end," he smirked. "Trust me."
If Olivia made a complete and utter fool of herself that evening, she didn't know or care - all she knew was that her stomach hurt from laughing as Rafael took the lead and led her through a series of dance moves she didn't even know her body was capable of doing. No overthinking, no fretting about everything that had happened over the past few weeks, and she could feel the residual tension flee her body. She couldn't remember the last time she'd felt this kind of unadulterated happiness - the kind that she'd forgotten how to feel a long time ago - and looking into his sparkling green eyes gave her the promise of many more of these days and nights.
(Perhaps even a lifetime of them, she thought to herself.)
"So… did I tire you out?" he asked when they finally retreated to their booth for another drink, their cheeks flushed and beads of sweat dotting their foreheads.
"Oh, definitely. I'm going to sleep very well tonight."
"Well, I hope you're not completely worn out, because…" he dipped his voice an octave, making her heart race, "I was thinking that now would be a good time to head back to our room and continue this."
Olivia downed the rest of her drink in a single gulp and placed her glass back on the table with a triumphant thud. "Ready when you are."
"Someone wants to get laid," he chortled, doing the same with the rest of his glass of scotch.
"Speak for yourself."
The sun had long set when they emerged from the restaurant and started their short stroll back to their room, and his hand quickly wandered to the small of her back as they basked in the silence. Bethesda was much quieter than New York, but this small town put Bethesda to shame - the balmy summer air was peaceful; almost meditative.
"Penny for your thoughts, mi amor?" he asked as the lodge came back into view.
"I…" Olivia hesitated for a while, eliciting a concerned look from him. "I'm sorry for the last few weeks, Raf."
He was visibly astonished at the sudden turn in her mood. "You have nothing to apologise for."
"I know it's been hard on you. You didn't deserve that from me."
They stopped on the street corner right in front of the lodge and he took her hands in his. "Liv, I could never hold any of that against you. You deserve better than to beat yourself up."
That last sentence touched something deep inside of her, and before she could catch herself she realised that he'd reached out to wipe the tears that were pooling at the corners of her eyes.
Olivia was good at many things, but she'd become too good at beating herself up.
She could barely recall a time she hadn't done that - for having her nightmare of a mother, for letting down a victim she'd tried to save, for every relationship that'd she allowed to crumble to ruins because she simply couldn't bring enough to the table. It was just too easy for her to believe that she was the problem somehow and hope that she'd find someone who could tolerate her enough to stay.
But she deserved more than that, and she was finally starting to believe it.
"I love you, you know that, right?"
"I love you too, Rafael." She threw herself into his arms without warning, and Rafael quickly embraced her, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead, but that wasn't enough for her - she engulfed his lips with hers, allowing herself to get lost in his scent and touch.
When she finally pulled away, his eyes were sparkling. "Come on, let's get inside."
"I hope you're going to keep your promise to sing me to sleep tonight."
"Anything for you, Liv," he winked as he closed their door behind them. "You never told me what song, though."
"Oh, shit."
"Stop, collaborate and listen; Ice is back with a brand new invention…" he rapped enthusiastically, a massive grin spreading across his face, as she flopped on the bed and pulled him on top of her.
"Oh my God. Stick to singing and dancing, please."
"Really?" He pretended to be hurt, which only sent her into a bigger fit of laughter. "You didn't even let me finish."
"Between finishing that song and taking your clothes off, I'm sure we both know what's a better use of your time."
Rafael raised his hands in defeat and promptly moved to unbutton his shirt and jeans, while Olivia's dress joined them in a messy pile on the ground. She smirked seeing (and feeling) the sizeable tent in his boxers as she reached for his waistband and pulled him back down towards her, his scotch-tinged breath hot against her ear as-
"Just for the record, there's a song version of Baby Got Back that I know-"
"Rafael Barba!" She couldn't maintain her stern expression for more than a second - why did he have to make her laugh so goddamn much?
However, she'd have it no other way.
"You do have a fantastic ass, though."
"Now, that's what I'm talking about."
Their laughter echoed through the room and Olivia knew for sure that she wouldn't have things any other way.
Rafael wished that he could freeze time when he woke up with Olivia in his arms and her scent all over his skin; he wanted to bottle up the feeling of lying in silence with her, one hand tracing circles on her bare skin and the other running through her hair. The night before they'd let the jubilant high of their evening out permeate every touch until they'd collapsed in bed panting and flushed, but this morning there was only a peaceful silence in the room and Rafael didn't think that he'd ever feel more content.
They'd done much more than they'd both expected on this vacation. Strolls around the small town or the nearby woods, slow lunches, lazy afternoons in the room making out and pulling orgasm after orgasm from her lips, and then evenings nursing wine and scotch and slow dancing… he didn't think he had ever felt more content, with no work-related emails to reply to or papers to grade. He tenderly swept Olivia's bangs from her forehead and pressed a kiss to her soft skin, and the sleepy smile that danced across her face was powerful enough to make his heart stop.
Bzzzzz.
Rafael whined at the loss of contact when she moved from his arms to silence her alarm clock. "It's still early," he groaned.
Olivia chuckled at his childish pout. "I'd love to stay… but we need to pack and check out."
"C'mon, Liv." Before she could slip out of bed, his lips were trailing down her cheek and neck, and she knew better than to assume that he'd rolled his hips against her accidentally.
She couldn't help the heat that rushed to her core feeling his half-hard cock pressed against her, and she was sure that her flushed cheeks were giving her away. "I need to shower, and I'm sure you do too."
"And we'll have time for that - if you let me join you in there." She gasped when he gently rolled her left nipple between his fingers, and felt the last of her resolve slip away.
"One round, a shower, and then we need to get going."
His lips curled into a devilish smile. "You have a deal, sweetheart."
"Better make your one round count, then."
Neither was surprised when one round became two, and then another in the shower, or that they set off for home almost an hour late, but it was worth it for Rafael to see her relaxed smile as she took the wheel, a far cry from the tension that'd clouded their outbound journey just a few days ago.
Rafael reached for the radio knob and cranked it up, hoping for his typical light ballads or jazz standards to accompany them on the long drive home. He then completely forgot about either of those preferences when a very timely song started playing, and the laughter that echoed through the car as he rapped Ice Ice Baby (from memory) told them all he needed to know.
This wasn't a summer that had gone completely down the drain. They were going to be alright. Everything was going to be alright.
Their first sign that things weren't alright greeted them the moment they entered their apartment.
"Did we leave the windows open when we left?"
Rafael didn't answer her question, but both of them knew instantly that the mess that greeted them couldn't be the result of just the wind blowing. Her eyes immediately darted toward the large window and sure enough, it was tightly shut - the last thing she'd done before locking the front door behind her. Books were strewn all over the floor, their shelf practically ransacked; the stacks of papers they'd piled neatly on the coffee table were scattered all over the couch. Olivia hurriedly inspected the kitchen while Rafael knelt down to make sense of the mess, and sure enough, it was also in disarray - something that even a strong gust of wind couldn't possibly have done.
Was this a break-in? It certainly looked that way on the surface - but their flat-screen television, laptops, and valuables were in their original places, completely untouched. Any home burglar worth their salt certainly wasn't going to spend precious time ransacking the kitchen cabinets.
Suddenly, she wished that she still had a gun.
"Jesus, Liv!"
Rafael jumped when the bedroom door flew open with a swift kick from Olivia - an Olivia who very much resembled Olivia Benson, not Olivia Davis. She shushed him sharply and scanned the room and bathroom for any signs of an intruder, and heaved a sigh of relief knowing that it was only the two of them in the apartment after all.
However, she was sure that someone else had been in there while they were gone because the state of their bedroom made it clear that the mysterious intruder had been on a rampage - and looking for something.
"Dios," he cursed quietly when he joined Olivia seconds later, taking in the piles of clothes that'd been pulled from their closet and scattered all over the floor and bed. He couldn't even think about how they'd be an absolute bitch to iron and hang up again - not when she'd made a beeline for the drawer in the closet that they'd designated as the one they never talked about.
Her face fell. "It's gone, Raf."
"What's gone?"
It was a useless question because they both knew what they'd kept in that drawer.
"The burner cell. It's gone."
Olivia rifled through the now-empty drawer one more time to be sure, and the realisation that it was gone well and truly hit them.
"We need to call the marshals," Rafael muttered shakily, his hand reaching for his cell phone.
"No." Olivia swatted his hand away. "They know where we are."
Even her cop instincts were no match for the wave of paralysis that took hold of them as the reality of their situation started to sink in. All she could do was stare into the worried eyes of the person she loved - the person she needed to protect more than anyone else - and then the world finally snapped back into focus.
"We need to get out of here, now."
Targets located. Shakedown has begun.
Excellent work. Keep doing what you're doing.
They won't know what's coming for them.
We're on it.