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“So how was Paris?”
Olivia glanced up, a small smile breaking across her face. “It was great,” she said, sitting back in her chair. “Of course, I didn’t expect to be accosted immediately upon my return.”
Barba laughed, leaning against the doorway of her office. “If you didn’t expect that, you shouldn’t have come in to work on your first night back in the city,” he pointed out evenly. “You’ve made yourself fair game.”
“Touché,” Olivia said, shaking her head slightly.
“But luckily for you,” Barba continued, strolling into her office, “I didn’t come here to accost you. Quite the opposite, actually. Once I heard you were back, I wanted to see if you wanted to get a drink before we’re back to spending all hours working on a case.”
Olivia laughed lightly. “That’s sadly too true,” she said, glancing at the clock. “And you’re in luck, I have—” She broke off when Amanda appeared in her doorway, unusually somber. “Amanda, what’s wrong?”
“We just got a call from the bomb squad,” she said, glancing at Barba. “There’s been some kind of explosion. They think it might’ve been a bomb.”
“Not usually your jurisdiction,” Barba remarked, his brow furrowed.
“That’s the thing,” Amanda said grimly. “Explosion was at your apartment.”
Barba and Olivia both sucked in a breath. “Are we assuming this is linked to the threats?” Olivia asked sharply, at the same time Barba demanded, “Is my entire apartment destroyed?”
Amanda ignored Barba’s question, directing her answer at Olivia. “We don’t know,” she said. “Bomb squad and the fire department are on the scene. We’ll know more when they know more. And…” She trailed off, for the first time looking genuinely worried. “There’s one other thing. Carisi was supposed to be on his way over there to relieve one of the unis. And no one’s been able to get him on the phone.”
It was eerily quiet in the precinct considering what was going on, but that was mostly because Barba and Fin were both sulking, for the same reason: Barba wanted to go check on his apartment but threat assessment shut that down faster than even Olivia could, and Fin wanted to go to the scene to have something to do , but he was told he wasn’t needed.
Watching two grown men sulk was almost more exhausting than worrying about where the hell Carisi was.
“Still nothing?” Olivia asked Amanda, who shook her head.
“Still going straight to voicemail.”
Olivia nodded, but before she could say anything, the elevator doors opened and Carisi practically sprinted out, looking wildly around. “Carisi!” Olivia called, relieved, but Carisi ignored her, making his way straight to Barba, who bolted to his feet.
“Thank God you’re safe,” Carisi breathed, pulling Barba into a tight hug. Barba let out a slightly startled noise but nonetheless made no move to pull away.
In fact, unless Olivia was mistaken, for a moment, he even gripped the back of Carisi’s shirt before clearing his throat and gently pushing him away. “Where the hell were you?” he asked.
“And why weren’t you answering your phone?” Olivia asked, making her way over to them.
“I lost my phone,” Carisi told them, sounding slightly strained. “I was out looking for it, and I didn’t even know what happened until I got back to Barba’s apartment and—” He broke off, swallowing hard. “The place was cordoned off, and no one would tell me what had happened, or—” He glanced sideways at Barba. “Or if Barba was ok.”
“Well thankfully, I’m fine,” Barba said, unusually gentle, and Carisi nodded before flashing him a tired version of his usual smile.
“Yeah. Thank God for that.”
Olivia cleared her throat. “Did you learn anything at the scene?” she asked. “Anything about what might’ve happened?”
Carisi shook his head, his expression troubled. “No. No one would say anything. But it looked like they were starting to let neighboring residents back into their buildings, which—”
“Likely means the threat’s been contained,” Olivia finished, nodding. “Which is good. That means there isn’t a second bomb.”
“One bomb is one too many for me,” Carisi muttered darkly, and Barba nodded slowly.
“Carisi’s right,” he said, his tone clipped. “While I’m glad the fine residents of my block aren’t in any immediate danger, I’d greatly prefer knowing that I’m not. Not to mention, I’d like to know if I have to replace all of my belongings.”
“Worried about your suit collection?” Amanda quipped.
Barba glared at her. “Among other things.”
Olivia held up her hands. “Unfortunately, until bomb squad clears the scene, there’s not a whole lot that we can do—” She broke off when her phone rang. “Benson,” she answered, watching Barba carefully to make sure he didn’t decide to do something stupid like duck out while she was on the phone. Luckily, Carisi appeared to have the same idea, sidling over to stand between Barba and the elevators and leaning down to confer with Barba in an undertone.
“Ok, and you have the serial number?” Olivia asked, gesturing for a pen, and Amanda quickly provided a pen and a pad of of paper. “GG7, WN5…wait, are you sure?” Her brow furrowed, but she finished scribbling the number down. “Thanks. Get it to TARU and keep us posted.”
She hung up and glanced at the squad. “We’ve got good news and bad news,” she said, a little grimly. “Good news: bomb squad has cleared the apartment. There was no bomb, and they’ve officially passed off the investigation to the fire department’s arson investigation unit.”
“Arson?” Barba asked sharply. “So they still think this was deliberate.”
Olivia sighed. “Which is where the bad news comes in. CSU recovered a partially-incinerated iPhone from the scene. They’re sending the SIM card to TARU to see what they can get, but they managed to get most of the serial number from the back.” She took a deep breath. “Which is the really bad news. The first five digits of the serial number indicate it was department issued.”
Fin let out a low whistle. “So we were right,” he said, exchanging glances with Amanda and Carisi. “Inside job.”
“If this was tied to the death threats, then yes, it does appear that the threats came from someone who works for NYPD,” Olivia said.
Barba glanced up at Carisi before sighing. “Great,” he said, sitting back in his seat. “Just when I was thinking I could finally trust the boys in blue…”
Olivia cleared her throat, crossing over to sit down next to him. “I know it may not seem like it,” she said softly, “but this could actually help us find whoever is behind the death threats. Which means we might actually be one step closer to getting you away from your 24-hour security detail.” She gave him a tight smile. “And I know you’ve been looking forward to that.”
To her surprise, Barba glanced at Carisi again before allowing, “It actually could be worse.” Carisi cracked a tight smile and Barba gave him a look. “Don’t even think about taking that as a compliment.”
“Too late,” Carisi told him, and Barba rolled his eyes good-naturedly.
Olivia raised an eyebrow but chose not to comment. “Anyway, I’ve got more good news. Looks like the fire was localized to the kitchen, possibly set in your oven. You’ll probably need to buy a new range, but it looks like the damage was pretty minimal.”
Barba let out a relieved sigh. “Oh, thank God,” he said. “I was picturing what my tailor would say if I told him I needed a whole new wardrobe, and I do not need that man angry with me right now.”
Carisi, however, had gone very still, all of the blood seeming to drain from his face as he stared at Olivia. “The oven?” he repeated, a little weakly, and Olivia glanced up at him.
“Everything ok?” she asked, concerned, but Carisi just shook his head.
“Barba, uh, do you happen to store anything in your oven?”
Barba stared at him, his smile slipping slightly. “Maybe,” he said cautiously. “I don’t exactly use it much for cooking, and you know storage space comes at a premium in Manhattan.”
Amanda leaned back in her chair, clearly eavesdropping on the conversation. “What do you keep in there, Barba?” she asked with a grin. “Pots and pans that you’ve never used?”
“Sweaters, actually,” Barba told her dryly. “My mother has a penchant for getting me sweaters for Christmas and they’re too bulky to store in my dresser.”
Amanda’s grin widened. “How very Carrie Bradshaw of you.”
“Where do you think I got the idea?” Barba shot back.
Carisi ignored both of them, looking back at Olivia, something like panic in his expression. “Can we talk?” he asked. “In, uh, in private?”
“Are you sure Barba shouldn’t be here for this?” Olivia asked mildly as she sat down at her desk. Carisi had folded himself into the chair across from her, looking absolutely miserable. “After all, if this affects his case—”
“It doesn’t,” Carisi said quickly.
A little too quickly.
“It’s, uh…” He trailed off, rubbing the back of his neck. “I think that the phone that CSU found might’ve been, um, mine. I stopped by Barba’s this evening, and I think I might’ve left it there.”
Olivia blinked. “So then you might also have seen who set the fire,” she said slowly. “Did you notice anyone suspicious, anyone who looked out of place?”
Carisi turned a mottled shade of fuschia. “Well, uh, about that,” he muttered, glancing over his shoulder toward where Barba was lounging at his desk. “Uh, see, the thing is…” He cleared his throat. “I think I might’ve set the fire.” Olivia stared at him and Carisi hastened to add, “On accident, of course.”
Olivia took a deep, steadying breath and managed to avoid the urge to pinch the bridge of her nose and stave off the headache she could feel mounting. “Explain,” she said, dreading more than she could possibly say her decision to stop by the precinct that night.
“I went over to Barba’s to make him some dinner,” Carisi muttered, not quite able to look at Olivia.
“Dinner?” Olivia repeated, a little blankly. “Why would you…”
She trailed off in understanding as Carisi glanced at her, biting his lip nervously.
Of course.
She really should’ve seen this coming.
Olivia sighed and counted to five in her head before asking, in as calm a voice as she could muster, “So you went to Barba’s to make him dinner.”
“Right,” Carisi said, nodding, “and I was preheating the oven for the lasagna when I realized he didn’t have any onions in the entire apartment—” He said it like it was a scandal and Olivia just managed to hide her smile at his outrage. “So I popped down to the bodega on the corner, but they only had red onions and lasagna really needs sweet onions, y’know? So I had to try elsewhere, and…”
He trailed off and shrugged, glancing at her nervously. “By the time I got back, the entire block was cordoned off and no one would tell me what happened. I didn’t even put two and two together until you mentioned the oven.”
“Because of course you wouldn’t think to check the oven for sweaters before you started to cook,” Olivia said with a sigh. She could see exactly how it would’ve happened, could see the fire starting slowly before engulfing the carefully stacked sweaters in Barba’s oven, and sighed once more before glancing at Carisi. “Are you sure it was you?”
“I’m happy to let the fire department finish their investigation to rule anyone else out, but…” Carisi shrugged again, looking somewhat on the verge of mortified. “I’m pretty sure this one’s on me.”
“Well, I’ll call the arson investigators and let them know it appears to have been accidental,” Olivia said after a long moment. “But you’re the one who’s going to have to tell Barba.”
Carisi nodded, shamefaced. “Thanks, Lieu,” he muttered, standing.
Olivia cleared her throat, deliberately looking down at the files on her desk. “Oh, and Detective? How long has this thing with Barba been going on?”
Carisi’s flush deepened. “I dunno what you’re talking about—” he started, breaking off when Olivia gave him a look. “A while.”
“Is it serious?”
Olivia kept her voice light, and calm, but this question was a crucial one, as much as she didn’t want to have to ask it.
Carisi shrugged. “Not serious enough that we need to disclose,” he said, before adding, “Yet, anyway.”
Olivia nodded slowly. “I expect to be your first call if that changes.”
“Of course, Lieu,” Carisi assured her quickly, giving her a tight smile. “I, uh, I dunno if it will, but…” He trailed off, looking out the window at Barba, something softening in his expression. “I’ll be sure to let you know.”
He turned to leave and Olivia hesitated before asking, “How are you planning on explaining this to Barba, exactly?”
Carisi paused, a slow grin crossing his face. “I’m just gonna tell him the truth,” he said easily. “And then offer to make it up to him.”
“How do you intend on doing that?” Olivia asked skeptically.
Carisi cleared his throat delicately. “You, uh, you probably don’t want to know the answer to that.”
“Say no more.” Carisi laughed lightly and again turned to leave, but Olivia stopped him once more. “Oh, Carisi, one more thing — this would be a complicated situation even without the death threats. So just..." She trailed off, shaking her head. "Be careful, and be sure you know what you’re doing.”
Carisi squared his shoulders. “I do,” he said, with no hint of hesitation, and she watched as he walked out of her office to make his way to Barba, pulling him aside and talking to him in hushed tones. She watched Barba’s expression go from mild curiosity to confusion to comprehension to, finally, something soft. Almost sweet.
Something she’d certainly never thought she’d see on the ADA’s face.
Barba patted Carisi consolingly on the shoulder, his hand lingering a moment too long, his touch just this side of too familiar, and Olivia wondered what else she had missed while she’d been away in Paris.
She shook her head and grabbed her phone to call it in, mind going a hundred miles an hour, and not just because of what Carisi had revealed about him and Barba. She also needed to tell Fin and Rollins something plausible, something that wouldn’t out Carisi before he was ready to tell them. A wiring issue in the oven perhaps, or something innocuous. They’d both grumble about having to put in OT for something as silly as that, but she’d take their grumbles over them mercilessly roasting Carisi over dating Barba.
Suddenly, Olivia grinned.
She knew Carisi’s secret, something he would very likely give anything for her not to tell. Which gave her all the leverage she needed.
She was going to make Carisi do all of her paperwork. And here she had thought that coming into work that night had no possible upside.
It was almost worth having to come back from Paris. Especially knowing that as soon as she got off the phone with the arson investigators, she was going to dump all the paperwork related to Carisi almost burning Barba’s apartment down on Carisi’s desk and take Barba up on his previous offer of drinks.
Sometimes, you had to take what justice you could get.