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"I need a favor," Rafael says.
Munch goes still, one hand reaching for the inner pocket of his suit jacket where he keeps his notebook. "I'm just here to pass along my notes from the Clemens case that is now the Clemens and Bryer case," Munch says, giving Rafael a sharp look over his glasses. "Our rapist was sloppy bordering on insulting. Use your favors wisely."
"This isn't a favor from a prosecutor to a DA investigator," Rafael replies, pinning Munch with his own sharp look. "This is a favor from a colleague of a certain familiarity."
Munch snorts and retrieves his notebook from his pocket. "This is about your golden retriever."
"I'd hardly call him mine."
"Fin calls him yours. That tells me enough." Munch huffs a laugh when Rafael sighs deeply but doesn't disagree. "I assume this is a dinner invite."
"Why would you assume that?"
"Because it's always a dinner invite."
Rafael chuckles. "Okay, it is, but not because he's trying to ingratiate himself with Fin."
"Well, he's clearly ingratiated himself with you, so what's the third option?" Munch asks as he sits.
"You had three search warrants challenged to the state supreme court of Maryland and two in New York, and he wants to pick your brain."
Munch groans. "No."
"Yes."
"And what makes you think you have the right to make that call?"
"Because I'm the reason the last one held up, and he's got a great mind for prosecutorial law."
"Is that what we're calling it now?" Munch asks.
"I'm taking that as a yes. I'll text Fin to figure out a time and place."
*
"I cannot believe you sold me out like this," Munch says as he and Fin leave their apartment three nights later.
"I'm willing to admit to a lot," Fin replies, "but I didn't have shit to do with this. You're soft."
"How dare you."
"Please," Fin mutters and then tucks John's hand into the crook of his elbow as they leave the building.
"Mr. Tutuola, my parents would have a spasm," Munch says, squeezing tightly at the bend of Fin's elbow.
"Good thing they're not here to see this, then," Fin replies.
"Jews believe in Heaven."
"But do they believe in your parents watching you when they could be partying?"
"That's a question for the rabbi," Munch admits as Fin lays a hand over Munch's own and keeps his fingers warm as they wait for their Lyft.
*
"Carisi, this is Munch," Fin says. "Munch, this is Carisi."
"Call me Sonny," Carisi says.
"Call me John," Munch replies because there is literally no other response he can give to that request. Sonny Carisi looks like he was built simply to amaze people that he looks like that. He's wiry and tall and has great hair. For a sharp, painful moment, Munch sees Bayliss in front of him, but it disappears nearly as quickly. There's something in the way Carisi knows himself that makes Munch certain he is seeing a whole man in front of him. Those dimples can't be faked, and there's no artifice in the way Sonny casually drops his arm around the back of Rafael's chair. This man carries a confidence and sense of self that didn't exist in Baltimore Homicide in the 1990s, not even for Frank Pembleton. It makes Munch relax.
"I'm told you want to talk to me about some search warrants," Munch says.
Sonny grins, ducking his head in a way that tells Munch he knows he's been called out. "Yeah, I mean, that'd be great. But we don't have to jump into it right away."
He's lightly embarrassed but not shamed, Munch notes. He's heard about Sonny of course. Munch calls him a golden retriever because it's how Fin first described him. Rollins has mentioned him when she and Munch meet up for lunch occasionally, and Liv's talked about him when they've met for a drink to catch up. He's been with the squad for three years, but Munch has fully outgrown the vapid enjoyment of playing the good spouse at a holiday party when he could be home in his robe, and he'd rather never walk into a bar full of cops again if he can help it.
He's smart, Munch has been told. Funny, sometimes over-eager, entirely too fucking nice (a description independently given by Fin, Rollins, and Liv at different times), and he cooks. He's got a way with terrified young survivors and the ability to come off as the ultimate fuckboy and get rapists to confess. He's passionate, energetic, and from the way he glances at Rafael and gets a little soft around the eyes, he's fucking enthralled with the man.
Munch leans back in his chair and looks over his glasses. "Tell me, young padawan, what do you know about me?"
Sonny chuckles, and he grins wide again. He's pushing forty, but even with the gray in his hair, he comes off younger. It'd be disgusting if Munch didn't know how many times the kid had come up toe-to-toe with a suspect and nearly died, how hard he pushes himself in undercover. The ghost of Bayliss shimmers into Munch's mind again, and he pushes it out. By the time Bayliss was forty, he was older than John feels now. Sonny isn't like that at all.
"Well, I know you were Baltimore homicide before you came to New York. You're married to Fin. Amanda thinks the world of you, but she also won't let you babysit without supervision."
"She was seriously afraid Jessie's first words were gonna be, 'we faked the moon landing,' and I don't blame her," Fin says.
"You gotta teach 'em young," Munch replies. "Before they get into government-run schools."
"Christ on a crutch," Rafael mutters.
Munch ignores him, watching Sonny take in what he's just said. Sonny's got the look of a man holding back a laugh. Munch likes that he's not trying to hide it. "What else?"
"You were with SVU for fifteen years. You were partnered with Cassiday when he was young and dumb--"
"Only one of those things has changed," Rafael says before Munch can say the same.
"Yes, I know," Sonny says in the long-suffering tone of a man who has heard that a lot. "And no one knows when you and Fin got together, but the good money's on sometime in the first three years of being partnered up."
"The good money?" Munch asks. "What's the bad money say?"
"Love at first sight," Sonny replies, his grin taking on a teasing edge. "But from everything I've heard, you're too cynical for that."
"Oh, am I?"
Sonny shrugs. "I can only report on what I know."
"Bullshit. You've got a gut instinct. What's it telling you?"
Sonny laughs at that. He looks at Fin, then back at Munch. Not in a nervous way, but in a way that takes their measure separately and together. "You came to New York after your fourth marriage busted up, right?"
"Don't phrase it as a question when you know the answer, and tell Rollins to stop gossiping," Munch replies.
Sonny laughs again. "I'll tell her," he agrees easily. "You were in Baltimore a long time."
"I was."
"I don't know where all your divorces happened, but it seems safe to guess that at least one other one before the fourth one happened there."
"It did."
"Am I allowed to ask questions?"
Sonny's eyes are bright and sharp. He's taking in everything about Munch from his posture to how he's replying. Munch can't help a small grin forming on his face. "Sure. But I don't have to answer them."
"Objection, hostile witness," Rafael says.
"Overruled. You knew what you were getting into," Fin replies.
"Did you move to Baltimore because of a different divorce?" Sonny asks, not even sparing Rafael and Fin a quick glance for their teasing.
It's not the question Munch was expecting. He'd expected something along the lines of who else Munch lost in Baltimore or if he'd retired early from Homicide and then decided he couldn't stay retired but didn't want to be in the same city. This question, it's clever. Shrewd. Munch approves. "No, I moved to Baltimore because it was there."
"Was there a big gap between your third and fourth marriages?"
"Yes."
"Okay." Sonny leans forward, his forearms on the table. "You're not a cynic. You're a romantic. It was love at first sight. Or close to it."
Fin snorts and claps lightly. Munch can't help but chuckle. "Explain your reasoning."
"You meant for your fourth marriage to stick. You wanted it to be the one that worked. It didn't. It hurt. You needed a change of scenery, but you didn't want to feel completely lost. So, you came back to New York, a city you knew well enough it felt okay to be back here. Maybe you and Fin didn't get together right away, but you knew pretty quick it was gonna happen."
Munch slides his gaze over to Rafael. Who's beaming as he reaches over to cup the back of Sonny's neck. He looks fiercely proud, and Munch doesn't blame him. "I take it back, Counselor. It wasn't a metaphor when you said he had a great mind for prosecutorial law."
Rafael laughs while Sonny looks confused but pleased. Munch feels Fin's hand warm between his shoulder blades and leans into it. "You can tell him," Munch says quietly to Fin as Rafael and Sonny spend a moment lost in each other.
"It was a year," Fin says to Sonny. "I'd been inviting him out for drinks for awhile, but he wasn't paying attention. So one night, I made him pay attention."
"But I did want to try nearly as soon as I met him," Munch adds. "Hard to say no to a man in a three-piece suit."
"Don't I know it," Rafael and Sonny say in unison.
Munch groans at the perfection of it even as he taps Fin's knee in a silent signal that he's a little charmed. "Okay, now that you've shown what you can do, let's talk about what I did," Munch says. "Which search warrant you wanna talk about first?"
*
"He's a good man," Munch says later that night as he and Fin get ready for bed. "He should be in the prosecutor's office."
"Barba agrees with you, but Carisi likes being a cop. He's good at it, too," Fin replies.
"How many times has he nearly died?"
"I refuse to think about it. He ever gets hit, I don't think any of us will make it."
Munch slides into bed and leans back against the pillows, watching Fin as he removes his jewelry. "You've never told him that, have you?"
"He wouldn't believe me," Fin replies as he gets under the covers on his side of the bed. "You ask him, he's just some kid from Staten Island whose glad we all like him."
"Jesus, how hasn't he been eaten alive by it all?"
"He doesn't know he should be," Fin says, reaching over to click off the bedside lamp. "He wants to do good, so he does. If it's hard sometimes, it's because that's how it goes."
"He reminds me of Bayliss," Munch says in the dark. "From when I first met him, I mean. Not later."
"Yeah?" Fin asks, scooting closer. He slides an arm around Munch's chest, and Munch holds onto it with both hands. "From what you've told me, Bayliss was always pretty intense."
"So's Sonny." Munch thinks about that for a moment. "Maybe I'm romanticizing," he says. "Remembering him better than he was."
"Nah. You're a romantic. Not an idiot. If you see Bayliss in Carisi it's because you remember something good about Bayliss that Carisi has too."
"He's who Bayliss could have been, maybe. If he wasn't where he was when he was."
"Lost a lot of us to homophobia and self-hatred," Fin says quietly.
"Yeah." Munch closes his eyes when Fin leans in and kisses his temple. "I'm all right."
"You're not," Fin says but doesn't press. He pulls Munch a little closer and kisses him again. "Go to sleep. You ask nice, I'll give Sonny your card, and you two can start getting coffee together."
Munch smiles as he returns the kiss. "And you say I'm the one who's soft."