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Barba sighed in relief as Rollins gave him a thumbs up, and the cameras stopped rolling in midst of someone shouting, “that’s a wrap!”. Unclipping the microphone from the lapels of his jacket, Barba handed it to an assistant as he stood up, stretching a little. “That took forever,” he grumbled to Rollins, as he straightened his jacket.
His Press Secretary raised an eyebrow at him. “Well, Mr. President, you were uncharacteristically…distracted. That was about ten takes more than your usual efficient single take. Is everything all right, Sir?”
Barba blinked. He didn’t realise he needed that many takes to record his Presidential Christmas greeting. Rollins was right, though, he was distracted. Olivia was not there with him, and he found himself missing her. It was hard not to miss her; she had been a constant in his life for the last few months of his life. But she was officially on holiday leave, and he wouldn’t be seeing her until after Christmas. He was due to leave for New York with his mother later that night, where he would be spending part of his Christmas holiday in the Bronx, and then in New York.
Tucker had balked at the fact that he wanted to spend Christmas in the Bronx – despite his efficiency, his Director of the Secret Service had always been an elitist ass - but his family was there, and he’d be damned if he didn’t spend the holiday season with them. That, and his mother would never forgive him.
Although he had to admit he wasn’t looking forward to the usual questions about his relationship status. And on that note, he would either have to spend the whole night evading and dodging the questions, or outright lie about it.
Because, of course, he was actually in a relationship now. A smile tugged at the corner of his lips, before he sighed to himself and shook his head a little. He may have a love life, but it was one that wasn’t exactly public knowledge. And because of that, they would be spending the holiday season apart. He knew she wasn’t ready to take the step to disclose their relationship to the world. If he could be honest, he wasn’t ready as well.
He wanted her to himself for just a little while longer.
“Sir?” Rollins’ voice snapped him out of his thoughts.
“Sorry, Rollins, you were saying?”
“I said, we’re finished in here, Mr. President,” she said patiently. “Unless you need me for other matters?”
“No, thank you, Rollins. Merry Christmas and happy holidays.” Like most of his staff, Rollins would be taking her much deserved break for the year end.
“I wish the same to you, Sir.”
Barba waved absently as he ran over the final checklist of things he needed to do before he left for New York. One lunch with Vice President Rita Calhoun, three other meetings, then his holiday can begin.
“I want to put the star on top of the Christmas tree, Mummy! Can I, can I?” Noah asked excitedly, waving the star.
Olivia laughed. “Of course you can, sweet boy. Here, let Mummy give you a boost!” She grabbed him and lifted him up, grunting exaggeratedly. “You’re getting to be really big and heavy!”
“That’s ‘cos I eat all my veggies!” Noah giggled as he leaned forward, placing the big golden star nearly on top of the tree. They stepped back to admire their little but beautifully decorated tree, with the small smattering of gifts below it. Her gaze drifted to a small box tagged “Uncle President”. Noah had insisted on a present for Barba under the tree, because he ‘liked Mummy’s friend Uncle President’.
Thinking of him brought a small smile to her face. He had been making solid and commendable efforts with her son, despite his discomfort and awkwardness with children. That had somehow endeared him to Noah, and the little boy had taken a genuine liking to Barba.
She would miss him this holiday season, she knew, but it was his family time, and he needed that time to himself. For what it was worth, she needed the time with her little boy as well. Amaro and Carisi would be coming around after Christmas day to have a belated holiday lunch, as they were assigned to protect the President on his holiday to New York. She had asked Trevor and Lucy to join as well, and that little circle of friends would make her holiday complete. Well, somewhat complete, anyway.
Picking up her phone, she typed a quick text to Dodds, ascertaining that things were smooth in arranging for the President’s departure. She did the same for Amaro and Carisi, with several security reminders. She trusted her team, of course, but ever since things had changed between her and the Barba, she had felt extra protective of the President.
Scrolling to a familiar number, she typed rapidly.
Happy holidays, Mr. President. Safe travels to New York. Let me know when you’ve landed safely.
It was only a minute later when her phone emitted a slight beep. Smiling slightly, she read his reply.
About to take off. Is it just me, or it’s extremely excessive to be using the Air Force One for this trip?
She chuckled. She could almost hear the indignation in his voice. Well, you are the President.
This President is thinking about flying commercial when it comes to leisure trips.
You know that’ll never happen.
I’m the President, I’ll make it happen.
As the head of your security detail, I can assure you that certainly will never ever happen.
…But as my girlfriend?
Olivia felt a slight blush colouring her cheeks as she tapped her reply. Nope, it’s still no dice, Sir.
Spoilsport. Anyway, I have to go. I’ll be having a meeting on flight later. Evidently Calhoun didn’t talk enough during our two-hour lunch earlier.
She laughed to herself, putting down her phone, picturing his disgruntled expression.
She was definitely missing him.
It was the afternoon of Christmas Eve, and the mood in his uncle’s family restaurant was boisterous and festive, despite the four sombre-looking Secret Service agents standing outside the restaurant, decked in suits and wires. Amaro and Carisi had been ordered by the President to join the festivities inside the restaurant. Barba had developed a grudging sort of fondness for his agents, although he would sooner spork himself in the eye than admit to it. If he had his way, the other agents would be included, too, but of course, protocol insisted that there had to be security guarding the premises.
“Well, well, well, Mr. President!” His cousin Manuel bellowed, grabbing him and ruffling his perfectly styled hair.
“Really, Manny, is this necessary?” Barba grimaced, wresting himself out of his cousin’s death grip.
“Yes, of course! You may be el president, but you’ll always be my baby cousin!”
“Leave your cousin alone, Manny,” his Tía Mariana admonished. “Rafa, so good to see you,” she said, hugging him warmly. “Look at you, so flaco! Your mother is right; the White House does not feed you well.”
“It’s good to see you, too, Tía Mariana,” he said, giving her a kiss on the cheek. His heart lifted as he watched all the familiar faces of family and people he had grown up with. It was here in the Bronx where home was, where he could truly be himself. He didn’t need to be the President here, and hardly anyone treated him as such. He was Rafa Barba to them, the smart ass who kept getting himself into trouble in el barrio because he was too clever for his own good. And they never let him forget it.
Barba was about to say more when Mariana ushered a strikingly pretty Cuban woman with long dark curls towards him. “Rafa, I want you to meet my very dear friend’s daughter, Paulina. Paulina is a public prosecutor, like you were, so I’m sure you will have a lot to talk about.”
He instantly recognised the twinkle in his aunt’s eyes, and he internally rolled his eyes. This was a blatant match-making attempt, of course. Sighing, he forced a polite smile, and held out his hand. “A pleasure to meet you.”
“Mr. President,” she shook his hand firmly. “It is an honour.” She waited expectantly, no doubt waiting for him to give her the green light to use his first name, but somehow…he didn’t want her to. Mr. President will work just fine, thank you very much, he thought. It was impersonal, and with that, she wouldn’t be harbouring any expectations.
He steeled himself for the minimum ten-minute conversation, the most mundane of questions – so, how many years have you been practising – on his lips. He wasn’t going to turn on his charm for this woman, there was no need to.
“Rafa,” Lucia Barba intercepted, placing her hand on his arm. “Paulina, I’m sure you don’t mind if I steal my son away for a moment,” she said, a pleasant smile on her face.
“Of course not,” Paulina said smoothly, her smile slightly pinched. “Well, I hope to speak to you again later, Mr. President.”
“I supposed I should thank you, mami,” he muttered gratefully as his mother led him away gracefully. “You have got tell Tía Mariana to stop doing this to me.”
“You’re welcome,” Lucia reached out and straightened the lapels of his jacket. “And she would not have done it if you had brought the lovely Olivia Benson with you.”
“Mami…” Barba stifled a sigh. “I told you in the plane on our way here, she’s not ready for this kind of public disclosure. I’m not ready.”
“Rafael Barba, this is our family! It is hardly the public you are speaking of,” Lucia chided. She liked Olivia, in fact, she liked her a lot, and she was more than slightly disappointed to find out that Barba wasn’t going to introduce her to the family this Christmas. She had been looking forward to it. However, when her son gave her a look, and she relented, knowing that Barba was right. Family or not, it would be a media circus. It all came with the territory of being an unmarried President whose love life was at the constant scrutiny of the paparazzi and gossip magazines.
“All right, mi hijo, you win,” Lucia took a sip of her wine and led her him to the tables, where everyone was settling down for lunch. “Let me seat you away from Paulina and your Tía Mariana for now.”
Barba slipped out of the restaurant doors, breathing a small sigh of relief as the door closed behind him, shutting out the noise and activity. He had spent the whole afternoon and much of the evening getting ribbed by his extended family, on being President and being ‘single’, as expected. He loved his family, but there was such a thing as too much of them. The night was still young, and there was still dinner to get through, so he needed a moment before he threw himself back into the den of wolves.
“Mr. President, Sir, is everything all right?” One of the agents stepped forward.
“Yes, everything is fine. I just need a breather,” he answered, sweeping his eyes around his surroundings. Spotting a bench against the wall, he sat down, making sure he was still in the vicinity of his agents, but not within their earshot. He had this little pocket of privacy now, and he intended to make full use of it.
Taking out his phone, he scrolled to the number he wanted, and tapped the call button.
She answered after three rings. “Hey,” she said. “Is this official business, or? I have to decide on which tone to use with you.”
He laughed, his heart warming at her voice. “There should only be one tone to use with me, Liv. I don’t want there to be any separation in how this relationship goes.”
There was a slight pause, and he felt his shoulders tensing a little. Try as he might, Olivia still erred on the side of caution when it comes to them, the duality of a professional and personal relationship weighing upon her. It shouldn’t have to be this way, he thought. But unfortunately, to an extent, it was.
When she spoke again, her voice was breezy. “So, on the scale of one to ten, how bad has it been so far? I’m thinking, since you’re calling me at six in the evening…an eight-point-five?”
He grimaced. “Eleven.”
He could feel her grinning over the phone. “That bad, huh?”
He gave a slight groan. “Liv, you’ve met my mother. Imagine twenty of them, in one room. I love my family, but it could be a bit too much.”
“It’s nice to know that even the President is not spared from the ragging of family, that makes you almost normal,” she teased, her tone amused.
“I am normal,” Barba grumbled.
“Of course you are, in every sense of the word. But you know what I was getting at.”
“Yes, I do, of course,” he responded, rolling his eyes.
“You better not be rolling your eyes at me, President Rafael Barba.”
He gave a startled laugh at her words, shaking his head. “I wasn’t.”
“I know you were. At least own it.”
As he revelled in the sound of her voice, the words just came out of him. “I wish you’re here with me.”
There was a short silence, and then “Rafa…I thought we said…”
“I know what we said,” he interrupted her. “But…I miss you,” he added tentatively.
There was no hesitation on her end. “I miss you, too.”
Barba leaned his head against the wall and smiled.
“Mummy, can you please read my new book with me?” Noah handed Olivia his Dr. Seuss’ Green Eggs and Ham as she put down a bowl of grapes on the coffee table.
“Of course, Noah.” She sat down as Noah clambered up on the couch beside her. Her phone conversation with Barba yesterday had left her contemplative, and realising that she missed him more than she had thought.
Her reverie was interrupted by her buzzer. Frowning, she walked towards her intercom; she wasn’t expecting anyone, and was looking forward to a quiet Christmas morning with her son. Lifting the receiver, she saw Carisi on the screen.
“Carisi?” she said, surprised. “What the hell are you doing here? Aren’t you supposed to be with the President?”
“Hey, Benson.” Carisi’s voice crackled over the intercom. “Can you buzz us in? I have precious cargo with me here.”
“What?” She asked, confused. “What cargo?”
There was shuffling on the tiny screen and some murmurs, and then a very familiar face appeared. “Olivia.”
“President Barba?!!” She couldn’t disguise the note of surprise and shock in her voice even if she tried.
Noah perked up beside her. “Is that Uncle President, Mummy?”
“Yes, wait, hold on…” Flustered, she unlocked the door and spoke rapidly. “Come up. And quickly.”
The President was in her building. She prayed that none of her neighbours would see him on his way up – what the hell was he thinking? She left him alone for three days, and then he went off and did something so recklessly thoughtless...
She had the door opened and ready when Barba, Carisi and Amaro exited the elevator. She stepped aside to allow them in, shutting the door fast behind them.
“Hello, Uncle President! Merry Christmas!” Noah said albeit shyly, giving him a small wave.
“Hey, amigo,” Barba leaned down, extending his hand, a smile of genuine fondness on his face. “Merry Christmas to you, too.” Noah giggled and surged forward, giving his hand a firm shake as he grinned. But when he looked up and saw the expression on Olivia’s face, he knew he was in trouble.
“Mr. President,” she said crisply, arms crossed. “May I know what is going on here?” Her eyes shifted to Carisi and Amaro, and both agents took a step back at the look on their boss’s face.
“It wasn’t our idea,” Carisi said quickly and obliviously.
“Obviously,” she said, rolling her eyes. “Well, Sir? I’m waiting for an explanation.”
“I…” he began, and then shot the two agents a look. Amaro took the cue immediately, holding out his hand to Noah. “Hey, Noah. Merry Christmas, buddy. Why don’t you show me and Uncle Sonny your new toys?”
“Okay!” Noah said brightly, taking Amaro’s hand and walking towards his room. Carisi followed, muttering to Amaro under his breath. “Are you sure we should be leaving the President alone with Liv? She looks like she might murder him anytime…”
“Shut up,” Amaro responded, as they disappeared out of sight.
There was a pause, as Olivia folded her arms. “Well?” she repeated.
Barba took a step closer to her, his face set. “It was like what I said. I miss you. And since you can’t come to me, I chose to come to you.”
“With no prior warning, and at nine o’clock in the morning on Christmas day?” She huffed in annoyance, reminding herself to strangle Amaro and his team for going along with the President on his stunt without telling her.
He winced. “Uhhh…yes? Look, Liv, I know this is sudden…”
She shook her head. “Sudden doesn’t even begin to…Rafa…this has to be one of the most reckless things you’ve done…you can’t just appear here, in my neighbourhood, and my apartment…”
“Don’t worry,” he said quickly. “I didn’t use the state car. It was all very discreet. I know you’re not ready…”
She threw up her hands in exasperation. “It’s not about that. I hope you know that you’ve just gone and undid all the security provisions that was arranged for your holiday? And now I probably have to call Tucker and listen to him ranting at me on Christmas day! Contrary to what you seem to think, the President cannot do what he wants to do. There are protocols…”
“Olivia,” he grabbed her hand and held it tightly. “Can you, I don’t know, just let us be us for a while? It’s not that complicated. I miss you, I want to see you, so here I am.”
She found herself relenting at the earnest expression on his face, as a rush of affection flooded through her. But still, annoyance ebbed away at her. A part of her, the responsible part of her just couldn’t let this go as easily as she (and he) would have wanted. “You do also realise that your little impromptu trip here is an abuse of public funds?”
“I’ll take a pay cut for the next year,” he replied, without missing a beat. “Are you done being mad at me?”
She pursed her lips and stared at him, but she didn’t pull her hand away from his. “Not quite.”
The corner of his mouth quirked upwards. “You must at least be a little impressed and touched at my grand, romantic gesture.”
Olivia snorted, but she couldn’t help her lips from turning upwards into a smile. “Not even in the slightest.”
Barba pulled her to him, wrapping his arms around her waist. “Liar.”
“Okay, maybe just a little,” she shrugged as she leaned into him. “But you, Mr. President, will have to sit quietly in a corner later while I sort this out with the Secret Service. That being said, what are you going to do for the rest of your holiday?”
“I haven’t thought that far ahead,” he admitted. “But I do know, for now, I want to spend Christmas day with you…and Noah. If you’ll let me, that is,” he added sheepishly.
“Well, I supposed I can’t kick the President out of my apartment on Christmas day,” she smirked.
“Oh, you most certainly can,” he traced a circle on her lower back. “But I am hoping you won’t. And if it helps my case…I have presents,” he nodded towards the two shopping bags on the floor beside her couch.
“Fine, you can stay,” she placed her hands on his shoulders and planted a quick kiss on his lips. She was about to pull back when he slid his hand to the back of her neck, leaning down and pressing his mouth against hers, giving her a thorough, lingering kiss.
They parted after a long, delicious moment, and she grinned up at him, looping her arms around his neck. “Well, shall I get Carisi and Amaro out of here so we can celebrate Christmas together with my son?”
“Deputy Director Benson, are you…abandoning protocol?” Barba said in mock horror.
“Do you really want to go there, Rafa?” She loosened her arms and gave him look, heading towards Noah’s room where the two agents were, essentially, hiding out.
“Liv, wait.” He caught her wrist, stopping her in her tracks. “I forgot to say it when I came in…well, primarily because you looked like you wanted to kill me…but…I just want to say, Merry Christmas, Liv. And I’m really happy that we’re spending our first Christmas together together. If you know what I mean.”
She smiled softly, curling her fingers around his. “I do know what you mean. And despite the mitigating circumstances and my eventual headache. I’m really, really happy, too. And I am touched at your over-the-top, romantic gesture.” Leaning forward, she placed her hand on his face, and kissed him. “Merry Christmas, Mr. President.”