I'm sorry I fell off the grid for the better part of 6 months. Grad school needed my full attention. I am slowly getting back into writing, and I hope to get more published soon. I hope you enjoy this :)


The story alternates between current and past events, so all flashbacks will be italicized.


The ping of your heels against the stone floor filled the courtroom as you passed in front of the witness stand, listening to your client recount his story from the night in question: the night he supposedly raped and impregnated his long-term girlfriend, Riley Hicks. It was hard to concentrate on the story as the pain in your feet traveled up your legs to your lower back, which was already aching from the exaggerated lordosis. Your bladder was not helping the situation either, as it was constantly compressed by the life growing in you; the life you had been painstakingly tending to for the past 38 weeks. This was your last case before maternity leave, and you'll be damned if you lose to your husband, Rafael Barba, one of the few times the two of you got to battle in court.

His passion was as an ADA for the Special Victims Unit. You, on the other hand, preferred higher paying clientele as a defense attorney, but the majority of your time was spent defending medical malpractice suits. Every once in a while you would get a call from someone in need of your firm's services as SVU breathed down their neck. These were the cases your partner, Rita Calhoun, would normally take, but occasionally she would offer one to you, giving you the chance to challenge your husband in court, but also giving Rita entertainment. She always enjoyed seeing her long-time opponent squirm as you controlled the courtroom, your way with words matching, if not superior to his skills.

"I can't begin to imagine what stress this heinous accusation has caused for you Mr. Myers. And to have your now-ex girlfriend, Miss Hicks, pregnant by another man but accusing you of the crime-"

"Objection, your honor. Is there a question?" Rafael Barba declared as he rose from his prosecution seat, cutting you off with a mischievous smirk.

"Sustained. Mrs. Y/N," Judge Carson warned.

"I'm sorry, your honor." You began a slow saunter closer to the prosecution table, your next question flowing off your tongue, ready to wipe the smirk off of your husband's face. "Mr. Myer, I know this question may be a bit uncomfortable, but are you able to have children?"

"No ma'am," your client answered. Barba looked like he had seen a ghost as he processed your question. His neck nearly snapped as his head swiveled around to look at Captain Benson, his eyebrows furrowed in a question.

"And why is that?" You continued, your breath hitching as you breathed out the question, a contraction gripping your abdomen, a little more forceful than they had been. You had been getting Braxton-Hicks contractions regularly for the past 2 weeks, but nothing became of them. They usually resolved themselves with a little rest and a snack. The clock in the courtroom showed that it was nearing noon; Judge Carson would be calling a recess for lunch here soon.

"Both of my testes were undescended at birth, and by the time they got me into surgery to take care of it, they were no longer viable. The doctors don't know what exactly happened. When I turned 15, on top of regular testosterone injections, I was given the option for prosthesis, you know, to make them look more real."

"I see. And have you ever had a semen analysis done, Mr. Myer, you know, to make sure you were, as you put it, 'firing blanks'?"

"Yes ma'am. Before the placement of the prosthetics, my doctors confirmed that there were no sperm."

"So, there is no way you could have impregnated the Ms. Hicks?"

"No. I have been confirmed sterile for the past 17 years."

"And did you make her aware of this information?"

"Yes ma'am. A few months after we started dating, I was clear with her that I could not have children of my own, and Riley, I mean Miss Hicks, was understanding. We had even been talking about adopting or using a sperm donor."

"I see. I would like to admit defense exhibits D and E, a copy of the chorionic villous sample from the fetus of topic and the semenalysis from the defendant's urologist confirming the defendant cannot produce sperm-" you closed your eyes and leaned against your table with your left arm as another contraction washed over you. You pursed your lips, slowly breathing out the pain as your husband's voice rose once again.

"Objection, your honor. The prosecution was not aware of these documents. Motion for a recess to evaluate the validity of this information," Rafael declared.

"I too would like a recess, your honor," you sighed, eyes still closed as your free hand moved to rub your very swollen belly.

"Very well. We will break for 1 hour. Counsel, in my chambers." The gavel's thud felt like the sound waves shook your body as you felt a small pop from your pelvis. You could feel your panties start to become saturated with fluid as if you had just urinated on yourself, but that had never been an issue at any point in your pregnancy.

"Hermosa, are you ok?" Barba's concerned voice broke through the hum of the courtroom as the gallery exited for lunch. His warm hand rested on the small of your back as he approached you.

"I'm good. Just more contractions. Can you hand me your jacket?" you asked as you braced against him with your right side, your hand on his chest. The man did not hesitate as he immediately dropped his brief case and began removing the top layer of his three-piece suit.

"Why, what's wrong?" His voice filled with concern as his emerald eyes scanned your body. He could tell that this trial was taking a toll on you.

"I think my water just broke." Your declaration was barely audible as the voices around you grew louder, but Rafael heard you. His concerned eyes locked first with Benson and then with Rita, the fear in his normally stoic face all too evident. Barba helped tie his jacket around your waist, concealing the ever-growing wet patch on the back of your royal blue dress.

"What's wrong?" Olivia asked as she stepped around the man to face you, squatting down a little to meet your gaze as the contraction continued to grip your abdomen.

"It's nothing. I'm fine."

"Like hell you are," Rita retorted as she supported you on the other side, her and Barba guiding you to a chair. "I'm calling you an ambulance."

"I am not taking an ambulance. I'm pregnant, not dying. I can finish today before going to the hospital. Baby girl can wait a little bit." You rubbed your belly as you caught your breath, your vision returning to normal.

"No you're not. You're taking an ambulance, Hermosa."

"No, Rafa, I'm not. The best you're going to get me to do is have Olivia drive me." Rafael looked up at the Captain expectantly.

"I'll bring the car around if you want to help her down the back exit," Benson stated as she started towards the door.

"I'll meet Judge Carson in his chambers and ask for a recess. After you've had this baby, Barba and I can finish this since I've been sitting second, assuming we can't come to an agreement sooner," Rita smirked. She loved a good victory against Rafael.

"Nice try but becoming a father won't make me soft. If anything, I want these bastards off the streets even more now," he shot back not taking his eyes off of you. You sighed reluctantly; you were not going to win this, not against two of the best lawyers in New York.


You gripped the cool porcelain sides of the commode as you emptied your breakfast into the bowl. Was it the Chinese last night? Maybe a stomach bug? Whatever it was, it was tearing your stomach apart. The main door to the ladies' room creaked open as heels clicked on the tile floor. A knock on the plastic stall door followed the pause of the footsteps.

"Y/N. Are you ok in there? We can hear you in the hallway," Rita stated as she waited for you on the other side of the division.

"I'm fine," you replied as you wiped the corners of your mouth with a wad of 1-ply toilet paper. You straightened yourself out, flattening your pencil skirt and brushing your hair back behind your ears. You grasped the metal lock and slid it to click open. When the door swung open, there was your best friend, a concern and skeptical look on her face. She didn't say anything as she handed you a pink foil. "Are you serious? We aren't doing this."

"This isn't a question."

"I'm not pregnant."

"Look me in the eyes and tell me with a straight face that the two of you are not fucking like Catholic rabbits." You held her steely gaze. "I can hear you two through the walls when you 'stay late'. If it really is negative, drinks are on me tonight." You snatched the pregnancy test from her hand. "I'll be in my office when you're done."

You tore open the foil and took care of business. You slipped the plastic back into its wrapper as you washed your hands, then carried it to Rita's office and set it in front of her.

"There. Are you happy?" She smiled without saying anything as she pulled the test out and studied the results.

"Have you looked at it yet?"

"No. Why would I need to? It's negative."

"No dear, it's not." She turned the stick around and handed it back to you smiling. Sure enough, she was right. There were two pink lines as clear as day. "What are you going to do?"

"I- I- I don't know. We weren't trying to get pregnant." You continued to stare at the results, hoping that with enough concentration you could will the second line to disappear. "I've got to go tell Rafa."


"Baby girl is looking good," Mary, the nurse midwife, stated as she examined the fetal heart tracings on the monitor next to your hospital bed. "Heart rate in the 150's. Appropriate accelerations. No decelerations. Everything looks reassuring." The two of you sighed, relieved your little one was hanging in there through the waves of contractions. They were becoming more frequent, now lasting 30 seconds every 3-4 minutes.

You had not really leaned one way or the other on having kids, it was just up to how the cards fell. But once you met Rafael, you knew he was the one you wanted to raise a family and growth old with. Barba never saw himself having kids either. He liked children, yes, but was never comfortable enough around them, let alone bringing one of his own into the world – especially with all he saw in his line of work. But here he was, married to his best friend, expecting a little girl who would be here sooner than he was comfortable admitting.

"Is it ok if I check your cervix to see how far along you are?"

"Of course." The midwife donned a sterile glove and sat on the left side of your bed, your husband on the right nervously holding your hand and taking everything in.

"Just let your knees fall to the side and take a deep breath in. You're going to feel some pressure." There was definitely pressure as her fingers found their way inside of you. Rafael's thumb brushed the scraggly hair off your forehead as you breathed through the examination. "You're 6cm dilated and about 70% effaced, but baby is still pretty high at station -2. We've still got a ways to go, especially with this being your first." The women doffed her glove and began washing her hands.

"How long do you think it will be?" Barba asked as he helped you get comfortable in the bed again. He had been so supportive throughout the whole pregnancy, attending every prenatal appointment and reading as many books as he could on parenting.

"It's hard to say. It could be in the next two hours, or the next eight. Baby will come when she wants to."

"In that case, I would like my epidural," you stated matter of fact-ly. "I am not doing eight more hours unmedicated."


"Mr. Barba does not want any visitors right now. He's on an important call," his secretary stated as she chased you down the hall, trying to stop you before you reached the office doors.

"I know, with the mayor. He told me." You paused in front of the closed glass doors into your husband's office, spinning to face the young lady.

"I really can't let you go in there," she reiterated.

"Carmen. I know you're just trying to do your job, but as his wife, I trump the instructions he gave you. Marital privilege." You turned back around before she could object, grabbing one of the handles and flinging the door open. You stepped through the threshold and shut the door behind you, leaving the woman to herself. Rafael raised his eyebrows with an inquisitive and concerned look as you marched over to his desk.

"Not right now," he mouthed with his hand over the receiver. You plopped your bag in one of the chairs across from him and made your way around to the side he was on, leaning against the desk as he continued his conversation on the phone.

"I know, Mr. Mayor. I understand your frustration with the situation. I can assure you SVU – Understood sir. Uh-huh. Understood. I look forward to hearing from you." He set the device back on its home, sighing as he turned his attention back to the papers sprawled out before him. "I'm not really in the mood right now, mi amor." You dropped the positive pregnancy test on the papers he was reading in front of him.

"Rafa, I'm pregnant," you state matter of fact-ly. The man's green eyes looked up to meet yours, fear and disbelief painting his face.

"How? When?" he asked, cutting each of his questions off as his own thoughts raced.

"How do you think? We've been doing it everywhere! It's not like the stork dropped off a baby in a white sheet addressed to me."

"I know that" he whined. "I just mean, how do you know? Are you sure?"

"I just took the test an hour ago. Rita made me pee on the stick after she caught me vomiting my guts out. I took three more before coming over here, and they're all positive."

"What do you want to do?" was all he could manage as he leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms in front of his chest as he stared at you.

"I- I- I don't know. I know we weren't really trying, but we weren't preventing anything either. And with both of our busy schedules…" you let your words trail off. "What do you think Rafa?"

"I want this baby," Barba blurted out. He could not believe the words leaving his mouth. He never saw himself having children of his own. His own relationship with his father had been rocky to say the least. But he knew he wanted this baby with you, and he was determined to be a better father for this little one. "But of course, it's up to you. I would never ask you to put your career on hold and put your body through the trial of pregnancy if you didn't want to. I-"

You cut off his nervous tangent as you pulled him into a deep kiss. When you finally broke apart for air, you did not move far, keeping your forehead pressed against his. You grabbed his hand and placed it firmly on your belly. "Te amo, Rafael, and I want to do this, with you."

"Te amo también. Cariño. Y usted, pequeño." He slid his hand to rest on your hips as he placed a delicate kiss on your belly. "Cariño, I didn't fall in love with you because of how you made me feel, I fell in love with you because of how you made my future feel - how you made something I did not believe I had or wanted now something that I can't wait to experience. You truly are the greatest thing to ever happen to me."


The delivery room was modest in appearance. The bed was centered against the east wall, the north wall on the right a row of windows that allowed the afternoon rays to flood onto the wooden floor. Underneath the windows was a sofa couch and chair for any visitors. To the left was the door to the private restroom and the door into the hallway of labor and delivery. The warm wood towns of the floor and the accenting tables made the room feel warm and inviting – a feeble attempt at calm before bringing a human into the world. A soft knock came from the hallway door.

"Come in," you called to the visitor.

"It's just me," Rita stated as she slipped in, shutting the door behind her before stepping around the green curtain that hung in front of the entrance as a partition. "How are you doing?" She sauntered over to the couch next to your bed and set down two duffle bags. You raised your eyebrows and gave an exaggerated frown to her question. "That bad still? Barba said you got your epidural 45 minutes ago."

"I did, but the nurses tell me that it could take up to an hour for the medications to kick in with how this anesthesiologist likes to do his epidurals."

"Well that's shitty."

"Tell me about it." Your husband also let out a laugh at the counselor's response.

"Thank you for bringing us our bags," he stated as he rummaged through his duffle, pulling out a more casual outfit consisting of a burgundy long-sleeve sweatshirt, jeans, and brown boat shoes. He was comfortable in his three-piece suit but did not think the drycleaners would appreciate bodily fluids on the fabric. He dipped into the restroom to change as Rita took a seat on the bed with you.

"I can't wait to meet you little one," she spoke to your stomach as she rubbed it for one of the last times. "Your dad's an arrogant pain in my ass," she chuckled, "but your mom is pretty awesome."

"Ritaaa!"

"What?!" she smirked. "I'll put our differences aside for you and my 'niece', but you know better than to expect me to sing his accolades."

"I'm glad the feelings are mutual," Rafael remarked as he sauntered out of his changing room and deposited the suit into his travel bag. "And to think we were starting to become friends," he smirked deviously.

"Play nice now you two. Mija's being a big enough pain in my side right now. I don't need you two teaching her how to bicker while she's still in the womb."

"Being a Barba, she's going to come out on her own terms, argumentative and defiant. Our bickering is not going to change that," Rita laughed.


Barba marched through the SVU squad room straight to Benson's office, shutting the door behind him abruptly.

"Barba! I wasn't expecting you. Is everything ok?" the captain questioned as she removed her reading glasses from her face, placing them on her desk as she looked up from her paperwork.

"Liv, I don't know what to do. I'm freaking out," he dropped his bags on the sofa in the corner and began pacing in front of his friend's desk. "I knew it was always a possibility, but I didn't think it would happen to me. Mierda! How can I be so stupid!?" Olivia stood up and walked over to the man, standing in the way of his erratic pacing.

"Barba, breathe," she exhaled as she held her hands up, signaling the counselor to take a deep breath. She had never seen her friend so distraught. He was always collected, even during the most trying circumstances, and he always had a plan. "Tell me what's wrong."

Rafael looked at her with watery green eyes. "Y/N is pregnant. And I- I- I- don't know what to do. I wear a belt and suspenders. I plan for everything. Things like this do not happen to me." She pulled him into an embrace, just like he had done for her when Noah had gone missing. "I want this, I do. She is my best friend and I want this life together. But Liv, I am terrified." He pulled back from the hug, her arms still on his shoulders.

"I get it, trust me," she joked with a smile. "As much as I wanted him, I wasn't ready for Noah either." Rafael smirked. He pulled his phone out of his blazer inner pocket, unlocking the device and passing it to his friend.

"This is from her confirmation ultrasound. It's a little hard to make out, but that's her," he sniffed, a proud smile growing on his face. "12 weeks tomorrow."

"Rafa!" Liv brough a hand to her mouth. "I am so happy for you two." She passed the phone back. "Who all knows?"

"Just Rita, mi mami, and now you."

"Are you guys going to tell everyone?"

"Eventually, but we haven't gotten that far yet. I know we need to figure something out – she's already showing through her normal court dresses." He pulled up another picture of you in your favorite royal blue dress, your baby bump becoming visible.

"It didn't take long for her to start showing!"

"No, it didn't" he laughed.

"Oh Rafa… I am so happy for you two. You're going to be an incredible father."

"I just want to do right by him or her. My relationship with my father was never great, and I never really had that constant paternal figure in my life."

"You're a good man Rafael. Your instincts will kick in, and you are going to be an amazing father to your little one, regardless of your own upbringing. Y/N and your baby are lucky to have you in their lives."


"7, 8, 9, 10!" You sighed as the air rushed out of your lungs, your whole body relaxing after the contraction, eyes quickly closing to try and relish a moment without pain. Rafael immediately placed a cool washcloth on your damp forehead.

"You're doing so well Cariño. I'm so proud of you," he cooed as he brushed more damp hair away from your face. He placed a quick kiss on your forehead – enough to distract you from the heaviness in your chest and pain in your pelvis. Everything hurt. Your hips from having your legs in the air for who knows how long. Your neck and back from curling up to try and push your daughter out. Every part of your body wanted this except her. She was determined to stay in her cozy home for as long as possible.

"How are we doing in here?" Dr. Mitchell asked as he sauntered into the room past the green curtain in front of the door. The nurse passed him a paper slip containing a sterile glove, which he quickly donned after washing his hands at the nearby sink. All you could manage in response was a feeble moan of exhaustion that was barely audible over the rush of the oxygen mask on your face. "Mary gave me an update and wanted me to come check on you. I know you've been pushing for the past 3 hours and are getting worn out. Baby girl is too. She is having some concerning drops in her heartrate, and I am not too fond of how often they are occurring."

"What can we do to make sure she's ok," you squeaked out as you pulled the oxygen mask away from your mouth.

"We're doing everything we can right now. We have you turned to your left side. You're on oxygen. Let me examine you really quick, and depending on where she is will determine our options." The man sat on the edge of your bed and coached you through the exam, but by now it didn't matter. You had forgotten how many times you had been checked, and at this point you just wanted the baby out of you. "So, the baby is still pretty high up."

"What does that mean?" Barba asked concerned.

"We have two options at this point. I can use a vacuum and help extract your baby as you continue to push, or we can take you back for a c-section."

C-section. That was not what you wanted to hear. You wanted to let your body do what it was made to do. Your fear was too evident, and Rafael's hand cupped your cheek as he leaned over the bed rail to get his face closer to yours. "I think we need to do the c-section, mi amor. I know you don't want to, but I've never seen you this exhausted before, and we need to make sure you and our daughter are ok." His hand found its home on your swollen abdomen as he rubbed it reassuringly. "I'll be right next to you the whole time, Cariño, but I can't risk losing either of my girls." You nodded weakly as you closed your eyes, allowing the mask to rest on your face again. You nodded your consent to proceed to surgery.

"Let's do the c-section." With those words your delivery room began to buzz, much similar to the hum of a court room dismissing for recess – it was almost comforting. People were in and out of the room, each one having their role in prepping you for surgery, but between the exhaustion and pain, everything was a blur. The anesthesiologist quickly came in and increased the dosage of medications flowing into your back in preparation for the operation, administering the long-desired pain relief you had been yearning for. Before long, you were being rolled through the hospital halls to the operating theater.


You heard the clunk of the deadbolt as Rafael's keys unlocked the front door. He had a high-stakes case on his plate right now, so he had been working late all week, some nights not getting home until the early hours of the morning. You glanced over at the clock on your nightstand: 10:37pm.

"Y/N?" he asked as he shut the door behind him.

"In our room," you called back from your cozy spot in bed where you had been reading a book. You were all ready to hunker down for the night after a nice hot shower, clean bedding, and comfy clean pajamas; all that was missing was your husband. You could hear the man emptying his arms, setting his belongings on the kitchen counter before proceeding down the hall to the master suite.

"Hola, mi amor," the attorney smirked as he entered the room. His white sleaves were rolled up to his elbows, his yellow tie loosened, and the first button of his collar undone. He sauntered over to his side of the bed and crawled over the comforter, giving you a quick kiss before laying down and propping himself up on his left arm.

"How was your day?" you asked as you set your book on your bedside table.

"Oh, you know how Buchanan can be, but it is going well. We should be able to get through the rest of the witnesses tomorrow, if not the next day, but I'm pretty confident we'll get a guilty verdict."

"Remember Rafa, innocent until proven guilty," you chided with a smirk, leaning over to give him another kiss as the defense attorney side of you came out.

"I know, Cariño, but if you had been there today, you would find him guilty too."

"If I had been there, my client would be acquitted." Barba hissed at your remark. Some days he struggled to understand how you could defend criminals, even if it paid better than being a prosecutor.

"How has she been today?" Rafa asked, changing the subject as he placed his right hand on your belly, eliciting a kick from your daughter.

"Oh, the usual. I can't eat without getting heartburn. She uses my bladder as a trampoline. And she has been kicking me in the ribs all day." At 34 weeks pregnant, much of life had become a challenge. Only four more weeks until maternity leave started.

"Mija, hemos repasado esto. Necesitas calmarte y dejar de lastimar a tu madre," Barba scolded as he leaned closer to your swollen belly.

"Fuck!" you winced as a foot bashed into your rib cage. "Whatever you just told her, she didn't like."

"She already doesn't like being told what to do," your husband smirked as he looked up at you. "Just like her mother."

"Very funny," you replied sarcastically. You ran your hand through his brown hair, ruffling the once sleek curls as he laid his head softly on your midsection. The two of you sat in silence for a while as you continued to run your fingers through his locks. Rafael eventually broke the silence.

"Hermosa?" he asked, not raising his head from its comfy position.

"Si mi amor." You could feel a smile paint his face at your response. His reactions were always a little more pronounced when you responded to him in Spanish.

"There are so many millions of ways in which I am in awe of you, even more now that you are growing our daughter, but the only words I can seem to find to tell you this are simply 'Te amo'."


"Baby at 21:34," Dr. Mitchell declared as he passed the limp infant to the waiting nurse. She swiftly carried the purple and blue baby to the warming station in the corner of the operating room where she began to bulb suction her nose and mouth, another nurse rubbing her with a towel to stimulate her to breathe. It did not take long for your daughter's strong cry to fill the operating room as she took her first breaths, her complexion turning from cyanotic to a bright pink.

"There she is," you smiled through happy tears as you looked up at your husband. "She's here Rafa."

"I know, mi amor." He placed a sloppy kiss on your forehead as his green eyes swelled with tears. "I'm so proud of you."

"Mom, you wanted to do skin-to-skin, right?" the nurse asked as she continued to clean off your daughter, her cries continuing to become louder and more forceful.

"Yes, she did," Rafael answered for you. You two had gone over the details of what you wanted your birth to look like, knowing he would be your biggest advocate, even when things did not go as planned.

"Wonderful. Dad, if you can help her get her gown off, I'll bring her over to you." Barba rose from his seat next you and grasped the green and blue hospital gown, carefully unbuttoning the snaps that fastened the cotton at your shoulders, exposing your bare chest. The nip of the cold and sterile environment was a sudden shock on your skin, causing goosebumps to erupt throughout, and you could only imagine what your little one was feeling.

The pediatric nurse scooped up your little girl and wrapped her loosely in a blanket before escorting her over to you. She placed the fussy pink infant on your bare skin, your body warming the little girl. Your arms instinctively moved to cradle her close to you.

"Hey there little one. It's nice to finally meet you," you cooed, placing a delicate kiss on your baby's forehead as tears of happiness trickled down your skin. Her cries became whimpers that eventually dissipated as she nuzzled into you, your familiar heartbeat comforting in the bright, cold new world.

"She's beautiful, hermosa." Rafa's hand rested on yours as the two of you studied the features of your daughter, both of you now with wet eyes. She had a full head of wavy brown hair, ten fingers and toes, a perfect little nose, and the most brilliant pair of hazel eyes that matched her father's.

Bringing children into the world were other people's dreams. Barba was perfectly content with being Uncle Rafa to Jesse, Billie, and Noah. But here in this moment, with you, with your daughter, with his perfect little family, he could never imagine a life without the two of you.

"Does she have a name?" Dr. Mitchell asked as he glanced over the blue drape to view the happy family.

"Catalina Maria Barba," you answered with a wide smile, not taking your eyes off of the little girl. "After his grandmother." Your eyes met your husband's green orbs, the tears ever more evident as the name processed in his mind.

"Catalina Maria Barba," he said it softly as if he couldn't believe it was true. "Mi mundo entero." He placed another kiss on your forehead, a kiss full of thanks, love, and adoration – an action not warranting an action in return.

"Happy birthday Miss Catalina," Dr. Mitchell congratulated as he continued his work at closing your abdomen.

"Do you want to hold her?" you asked your husband after a few minutes of studying your daughter's features.

"I-, um, I don't-" he mumbled in response, struggling to enunciate his thoughts.

"Rafa, you're not going to hurt her." With the little workroom the drapes gave you, you wrapped Catalina in one of the infant blankets, securing her arms and legs so that they didn't flail around. "Take her, mi amor." Barba cautiously scooped the little baby up, supporting her head with one hand and her body with the other. "See, you're a natural."

"I wouldn't say natural," he smirked back at you. "She's so small." He adjusted the little girl so that she was supported in the crook of his arm. "She's beautiful mi amor." The man continued to stare in awe of his daughter – his whole world. He didn't know he could love something or someone so much. "Te amo Catalina."


"Look Catalina, it's your daddy," you exclaimed as you sat down on the couch with a baby in one arm as you turned up the TV volume with your free hand. The trial had reconvened today, with Rita taking the lead, but you were sure you had secured the acquittal for your client.

"On behalf of the City of New York, I would like to extend my apologies to Mr. Myer for the false allegations and trial he had to endure. I assure you that the DA's office and NYPD's Special Victims Unit will continue to search for the person responsible for these heinous crimes and will bring them to justice," Rafael debriefed as the media swarmed him on the courthouse steps. He kept his commentary short-and-sweet before continuing his decent to the bustling street below, navigating through the stampede of reporters. The group soon flocked over to your partner.

"And here's Aunt Rita," you smiled down at your little one who was in a milk-drunk stupor. The reporter with the camera zoomed in on your friend and client as they were bombarded with questions.

"I am happy that the case against Mr. Myer was dismissed, much to the hard work of my partner, Y/N. The accusations against my client were ridiculous and unsubstantiated. Now it is time for my client to rebuild his life now that the NYPD's Special Victims Unit has dragged him through the mud, tarnishing his good name with slander. We hope that the DA's office finds the person actually responsible for these heinous crimes and pursues them accordingly, and that no other innocent people are put on trial for crimes they did not commit," Rita announced.

"Aunt Liv and Uncle Fin really dropped the ball on this one, huh little one. Daddy's going to need some baby cuddles when he gets home."


Rafael had worked late, even retreating to his office once he had gotten home. It was nearing 11pm, and he was still hyper fixated on the case before him, skimming documents under the glow of his single desk light in the dimly lit room. Bookcases lined two of the four walls, each adorned with various law books and documents from both of your careers and training. Two dark oak desks were situated in an "L" at the far end of the room, one for each of you.

"I just got her down again," you whispered as you walked up behind the man were he sat at his desk. You wrapped your arms over his shoulders from behind, leaning on the back of the chair as you placed a soft kiss on his check, the stubble tickling your lips. "Why don't you come to bed Rafael."

"I need to make sense of this," he sighed exhaustedly, running his hand over his face to try and awaken himself more, eventually reaching for his cup of lukewarm coffee. "It's all obfuscating."

"Obfuscating. Yummy," you purred into his ear. His mouth gaped in silent argument as he tried to find a rebuttal. You reached in front of him and took the papers from his hand, turning them upside down. "They will be there in the morning mi amor. You need to rest." Your husband sighed and leaned back in his chair, the leather backing making contact with your chest from where you stood behind him. He gripped the arm rests and pushed himself upwards, his knees popping with relief after the prolonged sitting. He pulled the metal cord to extinguish the lamp, then took your hand in his as the two of you wandered back to your bedroom.

You climbed into bed as Rafael changed into his sleeping attire: a white t-shirt and grey boxer briefs. He soon joined you after turning off the lights. Barba laid on his back and extended his arm, inviting you to him. You happily accepted the offer, curling into the crook of his arm, your head resting on his chest listening to the thumping of his heart as his fingers danced softly against the skin of your upper arm.

"I love you with everything I have, mi amor, and I'll continue doing so for as long as we live. Thank you for being nothing short of magical. You and Catalina are my entire world and more," Rafael whispered, his voice heavy with impending sleep. You lifted your head so your eyes could meet his green orbs. Your hand cupped his cheek, his stubble tickling the soft skin of your palm.

"Rafa, I sometimes forget that I'm not dreaming, because now that I'm with you, my dreams have become my reality. I love you." Your lips met his is a deep kiss full of intimacy and devotion. You nuzzled back into the crook of his arm, drifting off to sleep to the sound of his heartbeat.