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“What’ve we got?” Olivia asked, taking a sip of coffee as she joined Fin and Rollins outside of the interrogation rooms.
Fin nodded toward the room in front of them. “We raided that low-budget motel near Times Square that’s been implicated in a prostitution ring with underage girls,” he reported. “We picked up the motel owner and a couple of johns. Figured we’d give you the choice of which creep you want to talk to.”
“What a way to start the day,” Olivia said. “I’ll take the motel owner — you two have a go at the johns, see if you can get anything out of them. Did you pick up any of the girls?”
Rollins nodded. “Three of them, in holding. None of them have ID, none of them are willing to talk — and none of them look older than 16.”
“They’re scared,” Fin said, perhaps unnecessarily.
Olivia nodded as well. “Then you know the drill — get as much as you can out of the johns and then we’ll talk to the girls. And who knows, maybe one of them will want to make a deal.”
With that, she opened the door to the interrogation room and took a seat across from the motel owner, a somewhat greasy-looking man with a face like a rat. He was squirming slightly, which Olivia took as a good sign — in her experience, people who were comfortable in interrogation were unlikely to offer any help. “Mr. Bresler, I’m Lieutenant Benson,” she said.
“Am I under arrest?” he asked.
“For the moment, I’d just like to ask you a few questions about your motel,” Olivia told him.
Fifteen minutes later, Olivia had asked far more questions than she’d gotten answers to. The motel owner had danced around answering any questions and was claiming that he knew nothing about what the girls and johns had been doing there. “Look, Mr. Bresler,” Olivia said, leaning forward, “I want to help you. But I know there’s more that you’re not telling me, and I can’t help you if you’re not going to be honest with me.”
Mr. Bresler nervously licked his lips. “If I did know something, can I make a deal? I don’t want to go down for something I didn’t do.”
“But you did know what they were doing there,” Olivia pressed..
Shrugging, Mr. Bresler leaned back in his seat. “Like I said, if I did know something about some of my clients, I’d be willing to share, but only if I get something in return.”
Olivia hesitated. Her gut was telling her that this guy was up to his eyeballs in whatever was going on at his motel, but she still needed him to talk. “Well, depending on what you can tell me, I’d be willing to speak to the ADA and tell him how cooperative you were — if the information you provide is credible.”
His expression shifted, turning almost sly. “You mean this ADA?” he asked, pulling up something on his cellphone and sliding it across the table to Olivia, who picked it up, curiosity turning to shock. It was a surveillance photo from the motel, and it very clearly showed Barba in what could only be described as a passionate embrace with a tall man whose face was hidden from the camera.
“Where did you get this?” Olivia asked, struggling to keep her voice light.
Mr. Bresler shrugged again. “I told you — immunity, and then I’ll tell everything you need to know.” Olivia nodded and stood, though she paused when he added, “But you should also know, rumor has it that your ADA was with an underage prostitute. Not that I’d know anything about that.”
Olivia gave him a disgusted look, her skin crawling from the amount of pleasure this guy seemed to be getting out of this. She headed out into the hallway, meeting up with Fin and Rollins. “Get Barba over here,” she told Fin, who nodded.
“That creep really going to make a deal?” he asked.
"Something like that,” Olivia said, looking back down at the cellphone picture, her expression troubled.
“It was my day off, you realize,” Barba said, sipping on coffee as he strolled into Olivia’s office, dressed in what amounted to ‘casual’ clothes for him — basically, what he would normally wear, sans tie.
Olivia gave him a strained smile. “Sorry to call you in, Counselor, but we’ve got an issue,” she told him, handing over the case file.
Barba flipped through it quickly and shrugged, his brow furrowed. “Seems pretty straightforward to me,” he said. “I assume the motel owner wants some kind of immunity deal?”
“Yeah, he does, and that’s what the issue is.”
Olivia hesitated, unsure what to say next, and Barba frowned at her. “Liv, what’s going on?” he asked.
She shook her head. “Perhaps it’s better if we talk somewhere private,” she said.
“More private than your office?” Barba asked with a raised eyebrow, though he nonetheless followed Olivia out of her office and into an interrogation room. “Olivia, what’s wrong?”
Olivia handed Barba the cellphone, watching his expression carefully as he looked down at the photo. Barba’s expression barely even flickered, and when he handed the phone back to her, his expression was completely neutral. “And?” he asked. “Kissing a man is hardly illegal, and even if you had footage of what you could maybe assume happened following this photo, New York’s sodomy law was struck down in 1980. The most you can accuse me of is having bad taste in motels, which, for the purposes of this conversation, I won’t deny.”
For a moment, Olivia was taken aback at Barba’s casual attitude. Of course, though they had discussed many things during the course of their friendship, somehow Barba’s sexuality hadn’t come up, and Olivia had a feeling that was deliberate. “Ok, she said slowly, sitting down across from Barba, “but the motel owner claims that the...gentleman with you was an underage prostitute.”
Barba laughed. “You can’t be serious,” he said, though at the look on Olivia’s face, his laughter abruptly stopped. “Ok, apparently you are serious. But Liv, you can’t actually believe him.”
“I don’t,” Olivia said. “But I do need to hear your side of it.”
“My side of it?” Barba repeated indignantly. “Liv, come on.”
Olivia leaned forward. “We have to take any accusations of this nature seriously. You know that as well as anyone. So tell me about the gentleman you were meeting at the motel.”
Barba rolled his eyes and sighed. “This is not how I saw my Saturday going,” he said, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Fine. the man in the picture is not an underage prostitute or for that matter an of age prostitute. He is...a friend.”
“A friend?” Olivia asked. “You seem awfully friendly.”
Barba gave her a look before saying reluctantly, “I suppose you could call him my partner since I’m fifteen years too old for anyone to be my boyfriend.”
“And what were you doing at the motel?”
Now Barba looked downright incredulous. “I thought you did this for a living, Liv, but if I need to spell it out for you…”
It was Olivia’s turn to roll her eyes. “Let me rephrase — why were you doing that at a motel, instead of your apartment or his?”
“Because we were,” Barba said impatiently. “It was an error in judgment, certainly, but not criminal, and I have no intention of sharing all of the details of my private life when I’m being accused without cause.”
Olivia sighed. “Did you know that lawyers make the worst suspects?” she asked.
Barba favored her with a pale imitation of his usual sassy smirk. “I aim to please.”
“Well, I have no reason to doubt you, our own friendship aside, so the only other question that I have is the name of the man you were with.”
Barba’s grin faded. “Why do you need to know?”
Olivia frowned at him. “Because these accusations are serious and we need more than just your word to prove them wrong,” she said, as if it was obvious.
“First and foremost, it’s not your job to prove the accusations against me wrong,” Barba said, his voice low. “Don’t do the defense’s job for them. Secondly, you have no proof of any wrongdoing beyond, like I previously said, my poor taste in motels. There isn’t a DA in this state who would press charges against me with just this picture as evidence, and I would know.”
“Be that as it may,” Olivia said, an edge to her voice, “you would do yourself a lot of favors by just telling me who you were with, especially since, if it’s not an underage prostitute, I don’t see any reason why you wouldn’t tell me.”
Barba leaned back in his seat, his expression darkening. “It’s not as simple as that,” he said after a moment, drumming his fingers on the table. “It’s not mine to tell. The...gentleman in question isn’t out at work.”
Olivia rolled her eyes. “Well I’m certainly not going to tell his boss, if that’s what you’re worried about.” Barba just sighed and gave her a look. “Oh,” Olivia said, with understanding. “So he’s NYPD?”
“He works for the city,” Barba said carefully. “I’m not going to confirm for what department. And since I must once again emphasize that you have no case, that should really be the end of this line of questioning.”
Olivia sighed. “Counselor, you know as well as I do that this isn’t the end of anything.”
Barba leaned forward. “Then are you planning on arresting me?” he asked. “Or am I free to make a phone call or two?”
“Go ahead,” Olivia said, a little surprised by the request.
Barba pulled out his cellphone and dialed a number he had clearly memorized. After a long moment, he told Olivia, “It’s going to voicemail.” He paused before pasting a large, fake smile on his face. “Hey, it’s Rafi. I’m just calling to let you know that I may not make our scheduled phone call this evening since I’m being, uh, held up at SVU. I know how you worry, and I just wanted to make sure that you know where I am.”
He hung up and Olivia gave him a tentative smile. “Is he out of town?” she asked.
Barba waved a dismissive hand. “It’s a work thing,” he said evasively. “And now, if you don’t mind, I’m going to call my lawyer.”
Olivia sighed heavily and poured herself a cup of coffee. “What’s going on in there?” Rollins asked. “Fin and I haven’t gotten anything out of the johns, we’re waiting on social services to arrive for the girls, and whatever’s happening with Barba looks serious.”
Stirring a packet of sugar into her coffee, Olivia shrugged. “It’s nothing anyone needs to worry about — yet. Though he’s calling his lawyer, and that’s never a good sign.”
“You don’t actually think he’s good for it,” Rollins said, surprised.
Olivia shrugged again. “I don’t, but you know as I do that we have to do this by the book, or 1PP’s going to be all over this and us.”
“Too bad Carisi’s undercover,” Fin said with a chuckle. “He’d love to see Barba sweating it out in there. Payback for all the times Barba’s been a pain in his ass.”
“If Carisi were here instead of undercover, I’d send him in there with Barba,” Olivia said, smiling. “One hour alone with Carisi and Barba would tell me anything I wanted to know just to get out of there.”
With that, she picked up both her coffee cup and another for Barba and headed back into the interrogation room. “So is your lawyer coming?” Olivia asked as she sat down and slid the coffee over to Barba, who looked gratefully at her before taking a sip.
“Yes, and you should know that she’s advised me not to say anything without her here,” Barba said. “Advice I could have given myself without the $200 an hour price tag, but that’s neither here nor there.”
Olivia leaned forward. “Before your lawyer gets here, you should really reconsider just telling me who you were with. Think of the press attention if — or more accurately, when — it comes out that you’re being investigated for this.”
Barba just shrugged and took another sip of coffee. “If you want to call this an investigation. But neither you nor 1PP is going to want to leak to the press, if only because your bosses don’t want to risk the wrath of my bosses. So all things considered, I’ll take my chances.”
Olivia was about to protest when the interrogation room door opened and Rita Calhoun swept into the room. “Lieutenant,” she said courteously, sitting down next to Barba. “I hope you haven’t been questioning my client without me here.”
“Rita,” Olivia said, arching an eyebrow at her. “I’m surprised to see you here.”
“I come where I’m paid to come,” Rita said with a frosty smile. “And my client should make note that I charge extra for Saturday house calls.” Barba snorted and Rita ignored him. “In any case, it’s lucky that I was in the area.”
“Lucky?” Olivia asked.
Rita nodded. “Yes, because if you had held my client any longer without grounds, you’d have a lawsuit on your hands.”
Barba rolled his eyes. “Right, because of all people, I’m likely to sue the city,” he said sarcastically.
Rita gave him a look. “I’d advise my client to exercise his right to remain silent.” She switched her glare to Olivia. “Now, unless you’re planning on arresting a Manhattan ADA for having consensual sex with another adult, we’re leaving.”
She tugged on Barba’s elbow and they both stood, but before they could even turn, someone knocked on the glass window. “Give me just a moment,” Olivia said, frowning, and she hurried outside where Fin was waiting for her. “What is it?”
“We’ve got a problem,” Fin told her.
“What?” Olivia asked.
Fin gestured at a young guy sitting at his desk. “He claims he’s the one in the picture with Barba,” he said in an undertone. “And Liv, you should know — he’s only 16.”
“Am I in trouble?” the kid asked, because he really was just a kid, though the deep circles around his eyes and the way he shivered in his overly-large hoodie spoke to far-too-adult traumas that Olivia could only imagine.
She smiled gently at him. “Evan, you’re not in trouble,” she promised. “I just need to know what happened.”
Evan shrugged, not making eye contact with her. “I already told you,” he said cagedly. “That lawyer guy picked me up and paid me to have sex with him.”
Olivia leaned forward. “I need to know more than that,” she said, her voice still gentle despite the impatience she was biting back. “Where did he pick you up at? How do you know he’s a lawyer? How much did he pay you?”
Evan rubbed his eyes, his hand shaking slightly, and he shrugged. “I dunno,” he muttered. “I don’t remember. It was awhile ago.” He looked up at Olivia. “But I remember him. I remember what he made me do.”
“So do you think he’s credible?” Rollins asked when Olivia rejoined them outside.
Olivia sighed and shook her head. “I don’t know,” she said. “I have no doubt that parts of his story are true, and I want social services to talk to him as soon as possible and get him off the streets. But as to anything about Barba…” she trailed off and shook her head again. “Obviously I don’t think Barba would pay for sex, let alone with an underage prostitute.”
Fin shrugged. “We’ve been proven wrong on that before,” he pointed out.
“I know,” Olivia said. “Which is why the sooner Barba can actually produce his boyfriend, the better things will be for all of us.”
She returned to Barba’s interrogation room, unsurprised to see Rita standing and tapping her foot impatiently while Barba lounged in his chair. “I know that I’m getting paid and should hardly be one to complain, but I certainly hope you have a very good reason for insisting we stay,” Rita said.
Olivia ignored her, sitting back down across from Barba. “What I have is an individual in custody who claims to be the prostitute that slept with you.”
Barba rolled his eyes. “Seeing as how I didn’t sleep with a prostitute, that’s quite miraculous.”
Rita gave him a look in what was surely to be a wasted attempt to silence him. “It’s a he-said, he-said,” she said dismissively. “You have no proof beyond his word, and my client is willing to release his financial records which will prove that he has not paid for sex.”
Olivia met Rita’s gaze evenly. “And my witness says he can pick Barba out of a line-up, which may just be enough evidence to bring charges against him. Besides which, I think we both want to spare Rafael the indignity of that.”
Barba leaned forward. “The use of my first name is a good technique to subtly remind me that you’re on my side. I use it frequently. But we both know that a line-up proves nothing. Obviously this kid is being paid to set me up, and I have no doubt whatsoever that he’d be able to pick me out of a line-up.” He smoothed the front of his blazer and added in an off-hand way, “Despite my distinct efforts to remain under the radar, I am quite well-known.”
“Distinct efforts my ass,” Rita grumbled.
Barba glared at her. “Am I paying you for your sarcasm?”
“A question I often wonder, Counselor, when you’re running your mouth in court and I’m reminded that my tax dollars pay your salary,” Rita shot back.
Olivia cleared her throat in an attempt to forestall any further bickering. “As fascinating as this is, I have a case that I’d actually like to focus on.”
In unison, Barba and Rita both turned to Olivia to tell her, “You have no case.”
“That was frightening,” Barba said after an awkward pause. “Let’s agree to never do that again.”
“In any case,” Rita said, “I repeat what I said before: unless you’re planning on charging my client—”
Rollins tapped on the glass and Olivia sighed. “I’m going to have to ask you to wait just a minute more,” she said before stepping outside. “This better be good, Amanda.”
“It is,” Rollins said, gesturing for Olivia to come over to her computer. “I was trying to get a closer look at the surveillance photo, so I blew it up to see if we could get a better look at our mystery man.”
“And?” Olivia asked.
“And we got lucky,” Rollins said, smiling at her. “There’s a bit of his reflection in the window.”
Olivia smiled at her. “That’s great, Rollins,” she said. “So who is it?”
Rollins hesitated for a moment. “See for yourself.”
Olivia leaned forward, scanning the enlarged photo carefully. “Oh my god,” she said when she finally realized who it was. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
“So just like that, I’m free to go?” Barba asked suspiciously as he followed Olivia and Rita from the interrogation room.
Olivia nodded. “We reexamined the evidence and found that the credibility of the accusations made against you lacking.”
Barba’s eyes narrowed. “But not lacking enough for you to drag me in here in the first place.”
“Counselor, you’re not being charged. I would recommend not second-guessing that,” Rita told him.
“What she said,” Olivia echoed with a smile. “Besides, we needed to come you in anyway to discuss a deal for our motel owner.”
Barba smirked. “And how I look forward to nailing him,” he said, then, at the look on Olivia’s face, hastily added, “In court, that is.”
Rita cleared her throat. “While I would never think of questioning how the DA’s office chooses to prosecute cases, if I were the type of person who cared, I would recommend staying at arm’s length from this one to avoid the appearance of impropriety.”
“Unfortunately, you’re probably right,” Barba sighed. “And besides—” He broke off. “What the hell is he doing here?”
“Carisi?” Olivia asked brightly, as Carisi stepped off the elevator, looking equal parts confused and disgruntled. “I called him back from undercover. I have a few questions to ask him.”
When Carisi spotted Olivia, disgruntled clearly won the day. “Lieutenant, I was so close to nailing that guy—” He broke off. “What’s going on?”
Barba turned to Olivia, suddenly urgent. “Liv, give me just a moment. Please.”
Olivia nodded and Barba crossed to Carisi, tugging him away and conferring with him in an urgent undertone. Though they were out of earshot, Olivia could clearly tell the emotions flashing across Carisi’s face: confusion, concern, disbelief, and then a flash of something almost tender that Olivia didn’t know how to name. “How did I not see that before?” she asked quietly.
Rita shrugged. “I’ve always said that SVU often doesn’t look in the right places,” she said. “Of course, that’s normally because you’re accusing a client of mine, but…”
She trailed off as Barba and Carisi returned, Carisi’s expression slightly rueful, and Barba’s back to his carefully controlled neutral. “Before I left, I wanted to offer an explanation for the photo, on the record,” Barba said.
“You don’t have to say anything more about it,” Rita told him.
“I appreciate the advice, Counselor, but this is something I’m doing voluntarily.” Barba switched his gaze back to Olivia. “Detective Carisi was working an undercover case and needed an excuse to check out the motel. I was in the area, so I was nice enough to volunteer, which is why we were at the motel and why it appears something else was going on.”
Olivia looked taken aback for a moment, but quickly recovered. “Of course,” she said. “I apologize for the misunderstanding.” She looked at Carisi. “Head back out so we can take this guy down. We can discuss your, um, other undercover case later.”
Carisi nodded and looked over at Barba. “Counselor,” he started, but Barba shook his head slightly.
“We’ll talk on the phone tonight,” he said quietly, and Carisi hesitated for a moment before nodding and touching Barba lightly on the arm before turning and leaving. Barba cleared his throat and looked back at Olivia, his expression flickering. “We should talk.”
“In a moment, if you don’t mind,” Rita said. “I need a word with Lt. Benson first.”
Olivia looked surprised but nodded. “Wait for me in my office,” she told Barba.
Barba nodded and turned. “Oh, and Counselor,” Rita called after him. “‘I’ll be sending my bill to your apartment.” Barba rolled his eyes and disappeared into Olivia’s office and Rita turned back to Olivia. “I’m glad that this misunderstanding has been taken care of, and not just because I’m now free to go defend someone who actually needs a lawyer.”
“It helps that your client was innocent for once,” Olivia said.
Rita laughed but quickly grew serious. “I obviously can’t speak to anything my client told me in confidence,” she said, “and as his lawyer, I take him at his word that what he described is what in fact happened at that motel. But hypothetically…” She hesitated for a moment. “If hypothetically what you think is going on is, and if I were Det. Carisi, I would contact first my association rep and then the captain of the 99th precinct in Brooklyn.”
“In Brooklyn?” Olivia asked, confused.
“Yes, in Brooklyn,” Rita said, nodding. “He started one of the first organizations for LGBT officers. And he would know more than I would, but I was doing some research on this subject awhile back for an unrelated case, and he may be able to tell Carisi about some old ‘don’t ask, don’t tell’ rules still on the books, rules that preclude a superior officer from asking a subordinate about who he may or may not be sleeping with.”
If Olivia had been surprised before, it was nothing compared to now. “Why are you telling me this?” she asked.
Rita half-smiled. “I haven’t had a worthy opponent in the ADA’s office in a long time, and as much as it pains me to admit it, Barba’s a good man. And he deserves a little happiness. Lord knows we don’t find it in this job enough.”
“I understand,” Olivia said quietly, smiling at Rita. “And thanks.”
Rita nodded and left, and Olivia went into her office, closing the door behind her. “So you changed your story,” she said.
“Did I?” Barba asked mildly. “I told you he was my partner, and he was. You assumed sexual, and I clearly meant professional.”
“You also told me that you would call him your partner because you’re fifteen years too old to call him your boyfriend.”
Barba shrugged. “He is a friend, who’s a boy,” he said, though even he could tell the argument didn’t hold water and he shrugged again. “I realized I had forgotten some of the details, that’s all.”
Olivia gave him a look. “Those are some pretty big details to forget.”
“What can I say, I’m a forgetful guy.”
“No you’re not.”
Barba smiled. “No, I’m not,” he agreed.
Olivia sighed and folded her hands on top of the case file on her desk. “So are you going to tell me what’s actually going on between you and Carisi?”
“I can’t,” Barba told her.
Shaking her head, Olivia said, her voice heated, “As a lieutenant, maybe not, but you and I are also friends. And as a friend, you can tell me anything.”
Barba looked down and hesitated before saying quietly, “In this instance, it’s better for everyone involved if we’re strictly colleagues and not friends.” A hurt look flashed across Olivia’s face and Barba quickly assured her, “We are friends. But there are professional ramifications that neither of us can ignore.” Olivia didn’t look convinced and Barba added softly, “Liv, please. It’s not me that I’m worried about.”
Olivia nodded slowly. “You think that Carisi would get in trouble.”
Barba shrugged. “There are rules, and hypothetically, were a detective involved with an ADA, some of those rules about conflicts of interest would be broken. And if that came to light, it could potentially lead to convictions being overturned.”
“You don’t actually think that would happen,” Olivia said, surprised.
For the first time all day, Barba gave her his signature smirk. “No, I don’t,” he said confidently. “But that’s because hypothetically, the ADA involved took the proper steps to inform the DA and has taken the proper steps ever since to insure there is no appearance of impropriety.”
Olivia’s eyes widened with realization. “That’s why you and Carisi haven’t worked alone on a case recently.”
Barba shrugged. “Hypothetically, ever since, there’s been at least one witness to every professional interaction to avoid the perception of a conflict of interest.”
He sounded so smug and self-satisfied that Olivia almost laughed, but she couldn’t quite bring herself to. “Well, that certainly explains a lot,” she admitted. “But it doesn’t explain everything, including how this happened in the first place.”
Barba’s expression softened, and he stared off into space, his smile almost fond. “What can I say...all those late nights working together when he was shadowing me — he grew on me.” His lips twitched. “Like cancer. Even obnoxious can be endearing if you’re forced to endure it for long enough.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” Olivia said wryly. She hesitated. “Do you love him?”
Barba looked taken aback by the question. “I might,” he hedged before meeting Olivia’s eyes and adding, “I care about him a great deal.”
“Then make sure you take care of him.”
Barba’s smile grew almost wistful. “I intend to.” He stood and stretched. “So are we finally done with interrogations for the day, Lieutenant?”
“I have just one more,” Olivia said, standing as well. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Did we not just have an entire conversation about this?” Barba asked.
Olivia gave him a look. “We had a conversation about hypotheticals and why revealing a relationship would be a mistake. But why would you not tell me about your feelings before anything even happened?”
Barba’s brow furrowed. “Why didn’t you tell me about Tucker?” he countered.
“That’s hardly the same thing,” Olivia protested, though she had to admit that she saw his point. “I just...I wasn’t sure you would understand.”
“Nor I, you,” Barba said softly, and he hesitated a moment before asking, in his much more usual brisk pace, “But now that our secret is exposed, can I buy you a drink tonight, as a friend, and tell you all about it?”
Olivia smiled. “Sure,” she agreed. Barba smiled and turned to go, but Olivia stopped him, something else occurring to her. “Are you just asking me to get a drink because Sonny is undercover and you’re lonely?”
Barba paused and half-turned back to her. “Not at all,” he said, smirking. “Just like I didn’t purposefully drag this interrogation out because I was bored on my day off.”
With that, he left, and Olivia just shook her head and closed the case file.