Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Sonny is having a bad day. There’s no particular reason for it, which sours his mood even more. He doesn’t like to think of himself as a negative person, and having bad days for no reason is a thing negative people do. He should know, he’s happily dating a negative person. 

To remedy the issue, he asks Benson if he can leave early. It’s a slow day, nothing Rollins can’t handle in her sleep, and she still owes him several favors for babysitting. He knows Rafael is also taking the day off to prepare for Passover, and he also knows a little time with his boyfriend is exactly what he needs.

Or at least he thought he did. 

“Hi Rafi, I’m home- what the fuck are you doing?” Sonny blurts out when he sees Rafael with a large tote bag and a trash bag. A trash bag into which he is currently emptying the pasta Sonny made for dinner tomorrow.

“Language,” Rafael comments. He pauses, smiling to himself. “Well, that was a role reversal.” Sonny can’t help but laugh at that, but then he remembers the pasta. 

“Why are you throwing away my pasta?”

“It’s perishable.”

“What?”

“Non-perishables can go to the food bank but everything else I need to throw out.”

“Why?”

“Because the food bank doesn’t accept perishable foods.”

“I know that- but, why?”

“It’s Passover tomorrow. I waited as long as I could.”

Sonny is drawing a blank.

“I have to get rid of the chametz,” Rafael says, as if this makes everything obvious.

“The what?”

“Chametz. Any leavened grain. For Passover. I’m certain I told you about this last year.”

Ah yes, last Passover. Sonny can’t really remember anything except for Rafael’s terrible idea to try to have a family Passover with his mother who didn’t understand anything and really didn’t care to. Sonny could charitably describe that holiday as a clusterfuck.

“What does that have to do with my pasta?”

“It’s not kosher.”

“Who says?” Sonny exclaims, and immediately wants to facepalm at his own stupidity. Rafael smirks at him.

“Rabbis. The Torah. Judaism in general.”

“This seems like a dumb rule.” Rafael’s face falls.

Sonny has gone from wanting to facepalm to wanting the floor to open up and swallow him.

“I don’t ask you why you feel the need to hide perfectly good chocolate to celebrate a resurrection, or what having a giant bush in our living room has to do with some carpenter’s birthday,” he snaps. “Not to mention I’m pretty sure those traditions aren’t in the Bible, but the rules against chametz are in the Haggadah.”

“The Haggadah?” 

“The book of the Passover story. It’s full of dumb rules.”

Ouch.

“I’m sorry. I misspoke. Really Rafael, I didn’t mean to say it like that. I’m really sorry.” Rafael stares at him for a moment before nodding quickly.

“I forgive you.”

“No, come on. I’m really sorry.”

“I said I forgive you.”

“Yeah but I feel like I haven’t properly expressed my regret yet,” Sonny insists, and Rafael smiles at him.

“You have. Trust me. Besides, I did throw out your pasta.”

“Don’t worry about it, like you said, it was ha-mets.”

“ Chametz .”

“Whatever. Anyway, what else counts as that?”

“Cereal, pancake mix, bread, most bread-based desserts…”

“For a whole week?”

“Yes.”

“No cereal for a whole week?”

“You can eat cereal, you just can’t bring it in the house. The house has to be kosher.”

“How am I supposed to eat without bread?”

“Ah, for that, I bring you the world’s greatest innovation,” Rafael picks up a box on the kitchen table and tosses it to Sonny. “Matzah.” Sonny takes a piece and bites into it, making a face.

“This still tastes like cardboard.”

“It’s religiously important cardboard. It’s also your bread substitute for the next week.”

“Rafael, can I ask you a question?”

“Of course.”

“Why do you do this to yourselves? And I don’t mean you, Rafael, I mean you, your entire religion.”

“Why on all other nights do we eat leavened products and matzah, and on this night only matzah?” 

“Well, we don’t eat matzah on ‘all other nights,’ but sure.”

“How much of the Passover story do you remember from last year?”

“Uh. The Jews were all slaves in Egypt. There was a guy. The guy didn’t want there to be slaves. God also didn’t want there to be slaves. But instead of God just doing something about it directly, he had the guy go threaten the Pharaoh. And then God did all the punishments. And then the Pharaoh told the guy all the Jews could go. So they did.”

“Close enough for our purposes. The guy, Moses, did tell the Pharaoh the Jews could leave, but he didn’t give them any time to leave before changing his mind, so they couldn’t bake bread. Hence Matzah.”

“So you eat cardboard to perpetually atone for your ancestors’ lack of preparedness?”

“No, we eat matzah to honor their escape and remember the story.”

“Okay, I got it. But… pasta isn’t bread.”

“Sonny…”

“Okay, fine. No pasta. I got it.”

“Happy Passover, Rafi!” Sonny calls the next day as soon as Rafael walks through the door. “I have a surprise.”

“The Seder isn’t until tomorrow, you didn’t have to do anything special…”

“I made us spaghetti and meatballs.” Sonny almost apologizes when he sees Rafael’s expression.

“We talked about this. I thought that even though you didn’t understand…”

“Matzah meal spaghetti and kosher meatballs, Rafi.”

“What?”

“I went to the kosher market and I got a recipe from the internet. Everything is guaranteed 100% safe for Passover.”

“You didn’t have to do this.”

“Yeah, I did. What else are we supposed to eat?”

“Salad, soup, chicken…”

“I was never going to last a week without pasta, so I found a compromise. This is completely kosher. The packaging had the little Jewish star, the Hebrew letter, the whole thing.”

“Well if it had all those…”

“Come on, let me have this, please?”

“Okay. I’ll try it.”

“That was surprisingly decent,” Rafael says as Sonny loads the dishwasher. 

“Wow, Rafi. Thanks. You know sometimes I think you can’t be romantic and then you go and say something like that.”

“I’m not saying your cooking is bad, I’m saying that in general, kosher-for-Passover food is worse than its non-kosher counterpart.” Rafael gets up to try to help Sonny, who shakes his head, but turns to face him.

“Really?”

“Yes. Although it’s possible that my experience with kosher-for-Passover cereal single-handedly broke my trust.”

“What’s wrong with the cereal?”

“It’s bad.”

“It is?”

“Virtually inedible.”

“Crap.”

“Sonny, please tell me you didn’t buy cereal.”

“You know I didn’t have a lot of time for breakfast. I figured if it was bad they wouldn’t be stocking it! I mean, why would they stock it if it’s so bad? That doesn’t make economic sense.”

“Did you also go to business school when I wasn’t looking?”

“Yeah, Raf. I did. Right in between buying the cereal and cooking you pasta.”

“Well then, you shouldn’t be surprised to know that they stock it because there will always be people making amateur mistakes, like you just did. There are also presumably some lost souls or people with congenital lack of taste that think it takes like anything other than wheat-flavored styrofoam. It’s like why Kraft continues to sell mac-and-cheese.”

“I like Kraft!”

“Which proves my point.”

“Ha ha. But you know what they say about people who live in glass houses-”

“They almost certainly have exhibitionist tendencies?”

“-they can’t throw stones, Mr. I-like-pretzels-with-mayonnaise.”

“Sometimes I don’t have time to make a whole sandwich!”

“Then forfeit the mayo!” Sonny protests and they stare at each other for a few more moments before bursting out laughing.

“Okay, okay, fair enough,” Rafael says. “But anyway, there are people who like Passover cereal.”

“Hey, maybe I’ll be one of them.”

“I hope not,” Rafael sighs. “We’ve been having such a nice time, I would hate to have to end things.”

“You wouldn’t,” Sonny says confidently and Rafael looks like he might object, but instead he just nods.”

“I wouldn’t,” he agrees, leaning in for a quick kiss. “But burn that cereal box. I consider it honorary-chametz.”

Chapter Text

“Sonny, where’s the horseradish!” Rafael calls. Everything has to be perfect. The silverware is clean, the table is expanded, the centerpiece isn’t too tall, the matzah is stacked in neat piles on either side of it. The haggadot are centered properly on top of the folded napkins. Not to mention that the entire apartment had been vacuumed, the curtains dry-cleaned less than a week ago, and Rafael is in his best formal suit.

It’s his first time actually hosting a Seder. He’s been to plenty, and they always seem so perfect. Everything goes off without a hitch, and he leaves feeling more connected than his chosen religion than ever before. He wants to do that for his friends from synagogue.

He just needs to set up the Seder plate. 

Everything is in place, except for the lettuce, which is supposed to serve as the bitter herbs.

“What horseradish?”

“The horseradish that was in the fridge!” Rafael sounds more frantic than he probably needs to be, but it’s gone. It’s gone and he really needs it to not be gone.

“Why?”

“The Seder plate!”

“Why is lettuce going on the Seder plate?”

“For the bitter herbs, Sonny. You know, there’s the lamb bone, the egg, the charoset, the parsley, and the bitter herbs.”

“But horseradish isn’t labeled as being important for a Seder.”

“Sonny, please tell me where the horseradish is , and maybe I can explain why I’m using it to you.”

“Well,” Sonny begins, sheepishly looking at the ground, and Rafael feels like the floor is about to drop out from under him. “You know how a while ago you said that salad was a good Passover-safe food?”

“Yes…”

“Well, I can make a really good horseradish dressing… So I used it. That’s in the tupperware.”

“Sonny…”

“Fuck. Was that a big deal?” Sonny looks so worried that Rafael feels the anger bleed out of him.

“I mean in the grand scheme of things, no. But I do have an incomplete Seder plate and the guests should be coming in-”

The doorbell rings and Sonny makes a distressed noise.

“Don’t worry about it Sonny.”

“I am worried about it! I know how important this was to you and now I, the only non-Jew attending, fucked up the whole thing.”

“We’ll figure it out. I have to get the door.”

Rafael swings the door open.

“Rabbi Solomon! It’s great to see you. I’m very happy you could make it. Chag Pesach Sameach.”

“Chag Pesach Sameach, Rafael,” she says. “This set-up looks amazing.”

“Thank you, it definitely didn’t take me multiple hours of work.” They both chuckle and Rafael looks over at Sonny, who looks like he’s torn between interjecting and hiding in the bedroom. “Rabbi, I don’t think you’ve met my boyfriend, this is Sonny Carisi.” Sonny takes his cue instantly, putting a smile on his facing and extending his hand.

“Hi Rabbi Solomon. It’s awesome you’re here. Rafael talks about how much he likes your sermons all the time.”

“That’s a high compliment, given how good Rafael is with words.” 

“I think he gets jealous.”

“Well tell him to go to rabbinical school and he will be able to do just as well as I did.”

“I’m right here,” Rafael grumbles. “And, Rabbi, before everyone else gets here, Sonny and I have found ourselves in a bit of a pickle.” Sonny immediately turns red and Rafael smirks.

“Well, you know I love pickles. What’s going on?”

“I bought horseradish for the maror,” Rafael explains. “And I told Sonny about the whole bitter herb issue, but he still managed to use all the horseradish to make salad dressing, and didn’t mention it until just now.”

“Well, I’d usually say just use the dressing, after all, food-based mishaps one of the foundations of Passover tradition,” Rabbi Solomon answers, with a laugh.

“I understood that one,” Sonny mutters to himself happily, and Rafael smiles at him.

“But obviously we’d want to use the actual herb itself ideally, so do you have any lettuce?”

“Yes… why?”

“Lettuce can also serve as the bitter herbs for the seder plate.”

“Really?”

“So I am aware that you understand the origin of the bitter herbs as part of the Passover meal-”

“Actually, I was wondering about that,” Sonny interrupts. “Why do you do that? Like, why not just eat normal herbs? I get the whole thing with matzah is because it’s an ancient food, but I’m pretty sure they didn’t have processed horseradish in ancient Egypt.”

“I was actually getting to that,” Rabbi Solomon assures him and Rafael rolls his eyes playfully. “We eat bitter herbs to honor the pain of the oppression our ancestors face, and to a certain extent what Jews and other minority cultures face today. So there are multiple reasons one can use lettuce: if you are trying to specifically reflect on the exodus from Egypt, all lettuce currently grown today is descended from Egyptian lettuce, so it connects. Other cultures also use lettuce to represent the bitterness of the later Roman invasions that destroyed the second temple.”

“I… did not know that actually,” Rafael acknowledges quickly. “So just any lettuce would work?”

“Exactly.”

“Okay, I’ll go get some.” Rafael leaves quickly, but he still manages to hear Sonny awkwardly still talking to the rabbi.

“I’m gonna go with him, ya know, in case the lettuce is on a high shelf.” 

And sure enough, Rafael is soon face-to-face with his boyfriend.

 “Raf, I don’t think we even need lettuce after how you just got schooled in there, there’s probably already a bitter taste in your mouth.”

“Ha ha,” Rafael says, pushing past Sonny and yanking the refrigerator open. “By the way, did you abandon our guest?”

“She was very understanding.”

“We’re the hosts, Sonny, go talk to her.” 

“Is everything okay?”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“Yeah, you do. Are you really upset because you didn’t know about the lettuce?”

“Maybe a little,” Rafael admits. 

“I mean I didn’t know about it either.”

“That’s true, but you’re Catholic and until a few days ago you didn’t know what chametz was, I’m the host of the Seder, and I’ve spent weeks studying every aspect of the Passover Seder. You know that, I had you read enough haggadah excerpts. How the fuck didn’t I know that lettuce could be a bitter herb?”

“Because it’s a random fact? Like if you told me, ‘Hey Sonny, some Christians in England use… I don’t know… tea bags as Christmas ornaments,’ I would be like, ‘huh. Cool.’”

“But I should have fixed the problem on my own. But I didn’t. And because of that I got lectured by the rabbi like I’m preparing for my beit din again and now I look like I can’t handle the organization --and thanks for your ‘high shelf’ comment by the way, that really helped-- and Seder’s are supposed to be special, and well-run, and-” Rafael feels his breathing speeding up and looks helplessly at Sonny.

“Okay, I’m sorry about the comment, I was just trying to joke around and build a rapport, because honestly when you told me the rabbi was coming I kinda got nervous because I wanted her to like me. And you know how I can get when I want people to like me. And about the Seder thing: it’s just lettuce, Rafi. I guarantee you she doesn’t think less of you, and besides, you probably would have figured it out if she hadn’t been early.” Sonny makes eye contact with him and smiles softly. “Which I’m pretty sure you know, so why are you freaking out so hard?”

“This was supposed to go right,” Rafael sighs, leaning forward until he’s pretty resting on Sonny for support. “This was supposed to be a thing that I could do right. After the death threats, and Dodds, and your parents, and last week’s not guilty verdict, this was supposed to be the time where people were actually impressed by me for a change. And instead I was unprepared again and made it clear that I still don’t know what I’m doing.” Sonny presses a kiss to Rafael’s head and wraps his arms around him.

“First of all, I’m always impressed by you. You’re awesome. And Rafi, the Seder hasn’t even started yet, and there’s only one person here. So you didn’t know about the lettuce, big deal, impress Rabbi Solomon with how well you rally from this and how well you actually know the important stuff.”

“It is just lettuce,” Rafael says with a self-deprecating laugh, suddenly feeling ridiculous. 

“Exactly. So let’s just get our lettuce, and go have our party.”

“A Seder isn’t a party .”

“And he’s back! I was wondering where my Rafi went.”

“Shut up.”

“So,” Rabbi Solomon begins, hours later, while people talk over desserts, “I’m guessing you had some mild Passover anxiety?”

“Did Sonny talk to you?” Rafael asks.

“No.”

“Then how-”

“You and your emotional support gentile took an awfully long time retrieving the lettuce when the kitchen was just twenty feet away.”

“Ah.”

“Is everything alright?”

“I feel like an idiot. It was just lettuce.”

“It was your first time hosting a Seder,” Rabbi Solomon acknowledges with a smile. “Rafael, can I tell you a story?”

“Rabbi, I don’t mean to be rude, but I’m not sure I’m in the mood for an old folktale set in a nameless Polish village 200 years ago.”

“I was going to tell you about the first Seder I ever hosted, which yes, was almost 200 years ago, but was in the United States.” 

“Sorry.”

“You’re forgiven. So, the story?”

“It’s a pretty simple story, I forgot to hide the afikomen.”

“What?”

“My sister and friends’ kids were all looking for it for half an hour, and they couldn’t find it. So my sister asked to know where I had hidden it so she could give the kids a hint, and I realized it was still in my silverware drawer, where I had put it to make sure I didn’t accidentally serve it with the rest of the matzah. And we had told the children that it would not be inside any drawers, so obviously they hadn’t looked there. So I had just wasted a substantial amount of timing giving young children an impossible task.”

“That’s… something,” Rafael laughs.

“It was. So I, anxious rabbinical school student that I was, panicked. It was my sister who came up with the plan. When the children were all investigating one room, she hid it in another. It was carefully discovered by my nephew, and even though one of my friend’s children insisted she had already looked there, we assured them it had been there the entire time.”

“You gaslit children.”

“We found a workaround,” Rabbi Solomon corrects. “My point is, Rafael, that everyone screws up in small ways, especially since hosting a Seder is such an undertaking. And, for what it’s worth, your Seder was practically flawless. I’m very proud.” Rafael feels his chest inflate with pride. 

“Thank you, Rabbi.”

“She said she was proud of me,” Rafael tells Sonny as they clean up. “She’s only ten years older than me, I don’t know why it meant so much.”

“You have mommy issues, babe. Especially about Passover. I don’t know what to tell you.” Rafael glares and Sonny chuckles. “Sorry, I’m sorry. I’m happy it went well.”

“I’m sorry I freaked out about the lettuce.”

“It’s alright.”

“It really was just lettuce.”

“Yeah, I know, the freaking out wasn’t just about the lettuce. So we’re good.”

“I think it worked out in the end though, right? I didn’t forget to hide the afikomen.”

“You sure didn’t, babe.”

“You don’t know what that is, do you?”

“No I do not.”

“I’m too tired to explain it to you right now.”

“Okay. And by the way, Rafi, the Seder was excellent. I feel very immersed.”

“Thanks,” Rafael says with a warm smile. 

“So…” Sonny begins. “Would you say the bitter herb situation ended… sweet?” 

Rafael mutters about how Sonny can finish up the cleaning by himself and chucks the washcloth at him. Sonny just catches it with a laugh.

Chapter Text

“Congratulations Rafi,” Sonny begins as he and Rafael return to their apartment after a synagogue-organized Seder. “That was quite the display.”

“Thank you. I’ve been practicing.”

“Seriously?”

“Trying to say the entire Chad Gadya is pretty much the only ritual test of strength us Jews have. Even our fasting holiday is only a day.”

“Still, you were so fast.”

“I had something to prove. For the past week everyone at shul has been saying that since I talk for a living I should nail it. And you know how I feel about failing at Judaism-related tasks.”

“You freak out over lettuce.”

“Exactly.”

“So… how do you think I did at the Chad Gadya?”

“You were the stick. There’s only so much you can do with that.”

“I completely froze. I just said ‘thump’ and hit the table.”

“Most people just say ‘stick,’ at least you came up with the actual noise the stick makes.”

“I feel inadequate. You were so prepared.”

“Well, Sadie told me this was the year she’d finally let me be the angel of death. I had to bring my A game.”

“Well, you did.” 

“It was a nice Seder.”

“It was.”

“I enjoyed it,” Sonny continues.

“So did I.” Rafael turns to face Sonny and finds him with a weird look on his face.

“Do you have something you want to say?”

“Are you tired?” Sonny asks after a moment and Rafael furrows his brow.

“...No?”

“Okay good. I have literally so many questions.”

“You? Questions? I’m shocked. This is my shocked face.”

“Okay smart guy, last night you were too tired to answer questions but you just said you’re not tired. So it’s question time.”

“Fine.”

“Why is it called Passover, that doesn’t make any sense. Like no passing over happens. They don’t fly out of Egypt, they go through a river.”

“Okay, well the technical name for the holiday is Pesach , which actually has two translations, one being a reference to the lamb that was sacrificed so that Jews could mark their doorsteps.”

“You named your second most important holiday of the year after a blood sacrifice?”

“We half did that. The other translation is ‘to pass over,’ which is a reference of the angel of death passing over Jewish households during the 10th plague.”

“Oh.”

“Yes.”

“ Oh . I’m an idiot.”

“Well luckily for you, you’re pretty enough to make up for it. Is that it?”

“Not by a long shot. Why do all the children get money?”

“One of them found the afikomen. The rest of them shouldn’t be made to feel like the losers they are.”

“But why is the afikomen even there?”

“I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?”

“It’s just a thing people do, Sonny. I don’t have the entire mishnah memorized.”

“Okay, geez. Umm,  what’s with the dipping of horseradish in the charoset, or like, the parsley in the salt water? That doesn’t make any sense. Those foods don’t go together.” Rafael laughs and narrows his eyes. “Hey, that is a reasonable question. Because like all the rest of the food is like, brisket with 20 years of history behind the recipe or a cake that is inexplicably kosher for Passover, and then people are just like ‘let's dip this bitter food in a sweet food.”

“No, I’m just laughing because we should have had you sing the mah nishtanah.”

“Huh?”

“The four questions. You remember, ‘mah nishtanah, halailah hazeh…’ Well, that’s asking questions. Four of them. About matzah, maror, dipping food, and reclining.”

“We didn’t recline.”

“Some people have back problems. We didn’t want to be rude. But at some Seders people do recline.”

“Okay, well, if these questions are all in a song, then presumably you know the answer, right?”

“Yes.”

“So what are the answers.”

“The last two questions, about the food and the reclining, actually have very similar answers. Dipping food was considered a practice by the wealthy, and reclining was a symbol of luxury and relaxation, so to pour saltwater onto the wound of the people who tried to enslave us, we dip our food in saltwater.”

“That’s clever.”

“Thank you.”

“Rafi, I have another question.”

“Oh dear god.”

“Why are so many Jewish holidays about bragging to people who have been dead for centuries that they failed to kill all the Jews?”

“Because throughout history a lot of people have tried to kill all the Jews,” Rafael responds instantly. 

“Ah. Right.”

“I imagine that if Christian persecution was as much of a thing as right-wing pundits like to say it is, you’d also have a lot of ‘fuck you, we’re still alive’ holidays.”

“Yeah, that’s probably true.”

“Of course it’s not only about that, it’s also about reflecting and figuring out what the Passover story tells us about our role in moving the ark of the universe towards justice.”

“It’s a fusion holiday. Both genres,” Sonny says. Rafael smiles.

“Exactly. On the one hand, we enjoy the luxury of dipping the food, but in the case of bitter herbs, the food itself is a reminder of the pain of oppression. It’s why Passover is my favorite holiday.”

“Because you enjoy torturing yourself?”

“Because it always relieves any burnout I might be feeling about work. Because the true meaning of Passover, if you’ll excuse the colloquialism, is about doing anything you can, even if it’s not everything and even if you don’t succeed immediately, to do good in the world.”

“Aw, Raf, that’s really sweet-”

“And it’s also about arguing. There’s a reason we spend twenty minutes of the Seder just summarizing a debate between a dozen rabbis centuries after the Passover story took place.”

“I know you love arguing.”

“I do. I’m lucky enough to have found a community that actually honors that.”

“In my family, if we tried to argue, Ma would just yell at us to be polite.”

“In my family there could be even worse consequences, And I knew that if I didn’t want to be a completely different person, I had to find a place. Like how you feel when you go to Church, and you feel connected to something. I wanted that, and I found it.”

“Yeah.”

“Anyway, do you have any more questions?”

“No, I think that’s it.”

“Okay. Do you want to watch some TV on the couch? It’s still pretty early but you know that expressing emotion makes me tired.”

“Sure.” Sonny stays still for a moment as Rafael grabs the remote and sits down on the couch. “Rafi?”

“Yes?”

“I’m really happy you let me go with you. I know I haven’t been great at this whole Passover thing, and well, it meant a lot to me. So thanks.” Rafael blinks and smiles at Sonny happily.

“Thank you for going. It was also… important, for me. And for what it’s worth, everyone loved you.” Sonny smiles at that and sits down next to Rafael, leaning against him.

“It’s worth a lot.”

“I know. You have a pathological need to be liked,” Rafael says with a smirk and Sonny elbows him lightly. 

“Okay, maybe, but also it’s worth a lot to me because they’re your people, Rafi, and if I can’t get any more than grudging tolerance out of your mother, at least I can get your religious family to like me.” Rafael stares at him for a few moments, and Sonny starts to worry that he’s said something wrong until Rafael pulls him in for a kiss.

“You’re amazing,” he says when they pull away.

“C’mon, Rafi, I’m not, I still feel bad about that chametz thing I said-” 

Rafael starts laughing, and Sonny feels kind of offended.

“What?” he demands.

“Nothing, I just love you, is all.” All of Sonny’s irritation is replaced by warmth.

“I love you too, Raf.”

Chapter Text

“Barba, what are you doing?” Rollins asks, staring at Rafael. Sonny understands her confusion. Rafael is currently stretched out on his couch as opposed to behind his desk, and he’d had his eyes closed when they entered the room.

“I’m reclining,” Rafael responds simply.

“Okay, well, stop doing that, and go sit at your desk and lecture us so we think you’re not dying.”

“I would, Rollins, but I’m reclining. For religious reasons.”

“Oh really, and what religious reasons are those?”

“Detective, I know you didn’t go to law school, but I thought even you would know that you can’t ask me that question.”

“So you’re faking it?”

“No. I have a highly complicated explanation of why Jews must recline during the week of Passover but I am choosing not to give it because frankly, after three days of enduring non-stop questions from your work partner, I think that while I’m probably half-way through rabbinical school, I am very tired. So I will recline, and you will respect my first amendment right to do so.”

“Yeah, Barba, you seem like the kind of person who would sue me over something trivial.”

“Hey-” Sonny interjects.

“I’m glad I’ve successfully cultivated the reputation I sought,” Rafael says at the same time.

“Cool, well, anyway, we need you to get a warrant. So, if you could see fit to, I don’t know, get out of your religious stupor, that’d be great.” Rollins sets the files down on Rafael’s table and leaves.

“I never thought you’d be the one on the end of the religious stupor rant,” Sonny jokes as Rafael reaches for the top file.

“I imagine if I came from a place with more churches than general stores I’d be wary too.”

“I guess. So, you’re just faking right? There’s not any actual long Passover explanation?”

“There’s a short Passover explanation.”

“Wait, really?”

“Yes. I explained it briefly before but essentially, we recline to symbol how we can relax now.”

“You don’t relax though. You could still be taking time off due to the holiday, but you are here, and are planning on looking at those files and getting us a warrant even if you do most of it lying down. You don’t relax.”

“No I do not. But I in theory could, if I wanted to.”

“Hey, wait, don’t those rules also only apply to the Seder? Or at least mealtimes?”

“True, in theory. But you know how I like to bend the law. And technically, it was my lunch break until you and Rollins so rudely interrupted. Which means I was reclining for a meal. And also, isn’t the concept of reclining during a work day very much honoring the intent of the tradition? I rest my case.”

“Okay, okay, objection withdrawn. But seriously, we do need that warrant. I’ll get it for myself if I need to.”

“You won’t need to. I’ll get it for you by the end of the day.”

“Alright. But seriously, how much of this is to mess with Rollins?”

“Dear Detective Rollins was simply a test run. I want to try to push boundaries.”

“Really?”

“I have a meeting with McCoy in a few hours.”

“And your plan is to push his boundaries?”

“My plan is to be petty.”

“Explain.”

“He made a comment-”

“Do I need to punch him?” Sonny asks immediately.

“No, you do not have to punch him. It wasn’t anything particularly bad. He said-”

“Rafael-”

“If you would let me finish, I can tell you what he said. He got our office cookies to celebrate a successful quarter and then when I didn’t eat any he asked me why and I told him they weren’t kosher for Passover. To which he responded that he didn’t think I was that kind of a Jew.”

“What?”

“It was a microaggression, which usually I do my best to ignore, but I was feeling a particularly large amount of righteous anger leftover from the Seder, so I asked him what exactly that meant and he told me that he didn’t think I was really that serious about Judaism since I converted and was raised Catholic. So he thought I wouldn’t be as interested in traditions.”

“You lied to me. I do have to punch him.”

“No, you don’t. I’m handling it right now.”

“By reclining?”

“Exactly.”

“Explain.”

“The people who he said it in front of, who were amusingly uncomfortable, by the way, will be at this meeting. So they will be there when McCoy asks me what I think I’m doing, and I will inform him that I, convert or not, take the traditions and culture of my people quite seriously, and as such, will be observing them as best I can while still doing my job. And he is welcome to order me to stop, especially if he still feels that I will not be too upset by going without.”

“Rafi, you impress me with your spitefulness,” Sonny says, leaning down to peck him on the lips.

“There’s something deeply wrong with you, then,” Rafael says with a soft smile. “But that’s lucky for me.”

“Can I be present for your meeting? Technically I am a lawyer.”

“No, you cannot.”

“Can you have someone record?”

“No.”

“But I want to see it!” 

“Well I’m sorry, you cannot.”

“Fine, but I expect a vivid retelling.”

“That can be arranged.”

“What do you think will happen?”

“Probably a bunch of awkward facial expressions, a partially sincere apology, and a thrilling moment of victory as a I use the tradition in the ‘fuck you’ manner that the rabbis of old originally designed it for.” Sonny laughs, and Rafael joins in.

“Chag Pesach Sameach,” Sonny says with a final chuckle, giving Rafael a quick salute.

“Indeed,” Rafael mutters, closing his eyes once more when he hears Sonny leave the room.