Chapter 1

"Emma Lawrence may not be Emma Lawrence." "Talk to me."

"The surveillance footage that we found in the park doesn't match her story."

"But the family swears it's her," Rafael points out.

"Yes they do and the age progression photo is convincing," Olivia shrugs her shoulders, leaning against the storage cabinet behind her desk. " But you know as well as I do that age progression isn't the gold standard."

He picks up on the doubt in her voice, in her statement and shakes his head. "You assumed this girl was telling you the truth, why wouldn't you?"

"And she still might be...either way, something happened to her. There's definitely signs of abuse...I just don't know what to think."

As she shakes her head, Rafael watches as her body language changes. The so sure lieutenant he has come to know looks anything but.

"...About anything," she adds unsurely. "You ok?" He questions gently.

She pushes away from her perch, moving to close the door to her office. Rafael's chest tightens just a fraction as his mind immediately flips through every terrifying scenario that would warrant her to close her door.

"Ellie Porters mother showed up at my doorstep. It turns out that Noah, has a grandmother." Out of all the things he had expected her to lay on him, this wasn't it. "I'm sorry?"

Moving across her office, Olivia sits on her couch, leaning forward on her her knees. "Yeah, her first move was to vacate the adoption; I spent the entire morning yesterday in family court."

Rafael shakes head, moving to sit next to her. "Ok, I can tell you that you cannot vacate an adoption, not after three years-"

"-I know the law is on my side but the judge let her file for visitation."

For all the bravado and competence he feels in the courtroom, staring down perps and sleazy lawyers, he's at a loss for words, what to say to comfort her. "What do you feel about that?"

"My first instinct is no-"

"-Right, you want to protect Noah," he agrees immediately.

"But is my instinct right? Am I preventing this little boy from having a relationship with the only living blood relative that he has? With his only living connection to Ellie? I used to be so sure that I knew what was best for Noah...and now as he gets older, I'm just doubting myself at every turn."

Tears have welled in her eyes and he swallows hard trying to dislodge the lump that has found itself there. "...From what I've heard about raising kids, it never gets any easier."

She exhales, rubbing her forehead.

Smooth, Barba, he scolds himself. They weren't talking about a testing toddler or moody teenager. They were talking about the very real reality of a potential threat to her son. "You can trust your instincts. You can," he adds. He wants to tell her that her instincts are unparalleled, that during his entire career in the DA's office, her instincts are the only ones he'd trust implicitly.

Wiping her eyes, she rises from the couch circling to her desk. "...I'm sorry...I shouldn't have unloaded this on you."

Rafael shakes his head. "Please, don't apologize...you can talk to me... about this, Liv." She gives him a weary smile of appreciation and the tightness in his chest loosens just a fraction. If he knows her as half as well as he thinks he does, the appearance of her son's so called grandmother has rattled her, taken the control over her sons safety out of her hands. "I can come over this evening, look over the paperwork with you. Strategize."

"It's spaghetti night-"

"-perfect. I love spaghetti."

...

"Uncle Rafa!"

Rafael welcomes the little boys hug as he barrels into him. "Hey! It's so good to see you!"

Noah points to the package he has precariously balanced in his free hand. "What's that?" "You're favourite," he grins.
Noah's eyes light up. "Chocolate cake!"

Rafael chuckles, closing the door behind him making sure to turn the lock. If there is one thing he and Noah Porter-Benson have in common, other than their love for his mother, is chocolate cake.

Love.

It felt like it had come out of nowhere. One minute she was driving him a little bit crazy and the next, well, he had felt a little crazy when not in her presence. Back in Brooklynn he only ventured into precincts and conversed with detectives if it was imperative, preferring they meet at his office.

He has been at the Manhattan SVU so much the past few months that he had took it upon himself to replace the dreadful coffee they were brewing in the break room with his favorite Cuban blend. And he had told himself it was due to the job; the cases were far more than black and white and required that he have a close, working relationship with the detectives working his cases.

That's what he told himself, anyway.

"Don't you mean your favorite?" Olivia calls over her shoulder.

Bending to untie his shoes, he ventures into her apartment, setting the cake on the island. "Semantics."

She smiles, wiping her hands on the towel she has flung over her shoulder. "Uh-huh."

Noah slides on to the stool next to him, and he sheds his jacket resting it on the back of his chair. "How've you been?" He directs at Noah.

The little boy shrugs. "I've got a loose tooth!" He opens his mouth to show him.

Rafael peers into his mouth inspecting the molar that he wiggles with his tongue. "Oh wow! That's what? The third one this month?"

Noah nods enthusiastically.

"What's the going rate for the tooth fairy these days?"

"You got a dollar last time, didn't you?" Olivia questions.

An incredulous look crosses Rafael's face. "A dollar? The tooth fairy hasn't heard of inflation?"

Olivia laughs and Noah looks up at him curiously. "I don't know what that means."

He shares a look with Olivia. "Neither does the tooth fairy."
...

She watches from her kitchen as Rafael joined Noah on the floor to play with his legos. He looks so out of place still dressed in much of his three piece suit, though he has loosened his tie, unbuttoned his vest and rolled the sleeves of his shirt to his elbows.

And yet, he doesn't.

It isn't the first time Rafael has been to her apartment; he had come by a handful of times with case files at first, wanting to discuss their latest perp or vic.

She isn't sure when the visits stopped being about work.

He had brought by a batch of his Abuelita's homemade soup when they both had succumbed to a bug Noah had brought home from school, and although she hadn't expected him to attend Noah's soccer games or dance recitals, he always dropped by to hear all about it afterwards.

"Do you guys mind setting the table?" She questions from the kitchen.

Both Noah and Rafael make quick work of cleaning up the lego before promptly joining her in the kitchen. Noah waits dutifully for a plate as Rafael retrieves one buy one from her cupboards.

When had he become so comfortable in her home?

They make quick work, and as Noah slides in his usual seat, Rafael, like always, tucks her chair underneath her before sitting opposite her son.

"Spaghetti night!" Noah exclaims excitedly, as his mother fills his plate.

Rafael smiles from across the table. There's a stack of paper currently sitting on his desk at 1 Hogan Place, and several more hours of emails and phone calls to make this evening and had every waking hour of his day meticulously accounted for but spaghetti night? There is always time for spaghetti night.

"Uncle Rafa?" Noah questions from across the table, twirling his fork with both hands into his pasta. "Will you come to my soccer game tomorrow?"

"Noah, Uncle Rafa is incredibly busy-" Olivia interjects gently, sharing a glance with him. He knows what that glance means: don't make any promises you can't keep.

Noah's tiny face furrows. "-But I want you to come...I've been practicing really hard and you haven't been to any of my games yet even though you promised."

Rafael swallows hard. Even the most hostile perp has never started him down the way Noah is from across the table. "I did promise, didn't I?"

Noah nods, twirling his fork.

Exhaling, Rafael searches for the right words. "...you're Mom is right, I'm afraid. I'm due in court tomorrow."

"...To put the bad guys away," Noah recites resignedly.

His gaze connects with Olivia's and he can see the disappointment in her brown eyes. Shit. He shifts uncomfortably in his seat. "What time is your game?"

Noah's face immediately brightens.

...

They're shoulder to shoulder at her sink, Rafael rinsing their dishes while she loads them into her dishwasher.

"You shouldn't have promised him, Rafa," she comments quietly.

He passes her a few glasses, watching her profile. Her hair has fallen into her face and she tucks it behind her ear quickly before meeting his gaze. "I wouldn't have promised him if I couldn't keep it. You know me better than that, Liv."

Before she can respond, Noah skids to a halt in the kitchen in his sock feet and pyjamas, several books clutched to his chest. "I'm ready for bed."

"I'll be right there, honey," Olivia answers.

"Can Uncle Rafa read to me tonight?" Noah questions. "He does the funny voices."

There's a small smile tugging at the corner of her mouth, teasingly. "Does he?"

Rafael gives her a look and a small chuckle emanates from her. Reaching for the books in Noah's arms, he steers him back towards his bedroom. "We can't blame your Mom for being less than cultured in the arts, can we, Noah?"

...

To his credit, Rafaels voices are funny. Peels of her sons laughter carry through her apartment as she tidies the rest of the remnants of dinner. Three books later, she leans in the doorway of Noah's bedroom, listening in. Rafael is laying next to Noah, arm around him, while her son is tucked under his covers leaning into his side. His voice has softened as Noah's eyes droop and he finishes the story just as his eyes close.

Setting the book on his night stand, he extracts himself carefully from his side, making sure to tuck his pillow underneath his head. "Rest well, amiguito."

She softens at his nickname for Noah. Rafael rarely speaks Spanish and she knows it is something he only reserves for those he cares for. His relationship with her son has grown and she's not sure when he had gone from holding him at arms length, quite literally, to capably putting him bed?

He crosses the bedroom quietly, squeezing her upper arm gently before heading back to the kitchen, giving her a moment with her son. Tucking the blankets up around him, Olivia presses a kiss to his forehead. "Rest well, sweet boy," she whispers.

Flicking off his light, she closes the door gently behind her heading back into her living room. "I don't think I'll ever hear the Wonky Donkey the same again," she teases.

He laughs, pouring them both a glass of wine. "The fact that Wonky Donkey hasn't been given justice up until now is appalling, Liv." He joins her on her couch, handing her a glass. "How are you feeling now?"

Exhaling, she tucks her legs underneath her, leaning over the back of her couch. Taking a sip of her wine, she shrugs. "I don't know, Rafa."

His eyes dance about her face that way they do when he's trying to get a read on her. "You're allowed to say, no, Liv, and you don't have to feel guilty about that."

She rests her head against her hand, looking into his green eyes. "She's his grandmother, his only connection to Ellie."

Rafael mirrors her, resting his own head against his hand. "Ok. What do you know about her?"

"Her name is Sheila. She's a retired nurse, has lived in New Hampshire for the past 20 years with her late husband, who passed away 3 years ago from pancreatic cancer. She hired a private investigator to find Ellie, and somehow found Noah instead."

He frowns. "So how did Ellie end up in foster care?"

Olivia shakes her head. "That, I don't know...I haven't been able talk to her, ask any questions. She immediately filed to vacate the adoption and now she wants visitation."

"What's Langan thinking?"

"He's filed for an emergency hearing tomorrow, hoping that at the very least, we can slow this process down."

Family law has never been his expertise and he regrets it in this moment. "No judge in their right mind would allow a complete stranger into a child's life without first a proper vetting."

Closing her eyes, she exhales. "...just when I thought I could settle into happiness," she laments softly.

Her sadness stokes his irrational need to protect her. "I'll look into Ellie's foster care cases, see what I can find."

She smiles, opening her eyes to meet his. "You don't have to do that-"

"-I want to," he assures her. "...you don't have to do this alone, you know."

She rakes her fingers through her hair, nodding. "I have the squad."

"And me," he adds without hesitation.

Olivia stills, her eyes widening they way they do when he catches her off guard. "You have me," he repeats.

Tbc

feedback most welcome :)