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They’re sitting on her couch, watching the playoffs, and it feels like nothing and everything has changed at the same time.
She still gets riled up by the bad calls, jumping to her feet at the particularly contentious ones, but he gets to wind his arm around her waist now, pull her back into his arms and press a laughing kiss onto her pouting mouth.
He still stretches his arms up every time the player onscreen makes a free throw, letting out an exhilarated whoop whenever the ball swishes through, but she gets to tickle his side now and remind him to keep it down by putting her lips on his.
They still talk about their days when the game cuts to commercial, like Fin’s latest excuse for pawning off paperwork (“He said he was mentally still on his non-honeymoon”) and the new low Buchanan’s hit (“He asked what she was wearing when she was assaulted, if you can believe it—couldn’t object fast enough”).
But now, when she casually lets it drop that she got asked out today, he gets to openly gape at her.
“Who, uh,” he says, striving for the same nonchalance but failing, “who was it?”
“It’s not important,” she says, waving her hand as the second quarter begins. “S’not like I said yes. Just thought the whole thing was funny, now that you and me are finally…” She nudges him playfully with her shoulder.
“What—canoodlin’?” he jokes, putting his arm around her shoulder.
“Yeah, okay, Noodle Man,” she snorts, but can’t help scooting closer into his side. “Look, game’s back on.”
* * *
“Sorry I’m late,” he says the next day, breezing into the coffee shop they’d agreed to meet at barely five minutes after she pushed through the doors herself. “Ran into Ms. Hadid on the way out and she had a million questions about the Martinez case.” He casts a furtive glance around, sees nobody he recognizes, and leans in towards her.
She raises her eyebrows at him before meeting him halfway for a quick kiss. “You said something about coffee?” she murmurs when they pull away.
He huffs out a laugh and leads her to the counter, his hand on the small of her back. “Yeah, c’mon. I’ll even spring for something sweet, how’s that?”
“Oh, hey,” the barista says. “Amanda, right? Americano, two sugars?”
“You got it,” she says, chuckling a little.
Sonny eyes his name tag. “I’ll just have a regular coffee, Pete, thanks,” he says to the barista’s back as he busies himself making Amanda’s drink. “And a slice of cheesecake.” At that, her eyes light up, and his crinkle ‘round the edges almost instantaneously.
“Alright, here you go, Amanda,” Pete says, sliding her drink towards her. He lowers his voice conspiratorially. “Snuck in an extra shot, on the house.”
“That’s—very kind of you,” she says, exchanging a glance with Sonny. “Thank you.”
The three of them stand there for several beats.
“My coffee,” Sonny prompts, “and her cheesecake?”
Pete tears his eyes away from Amanda. “Oh—coming right up.”
“Really, Barista Pete?” he says to her out of the corner of his mouth. “He the one who asked you out?”
“What? No,” she says, blowing through the hole on the lid. “Don’t be ridiculous. He’s just— I come here a lot of afternoons when Fin is driving me crazy.”
He hands her the takeout container of cheesecake, holds the door open, and takes a gulp of coffee while she passes. It’s sweet and creamy, exactly how he doesn’t like it. “Yeah, well, Pete’s driving me crazy,” he mutters.
“Try some cheesecake,” she urges him, and he does.
It’s tangier than he’s used to.
* * *
They walk back to the 16th together, but he stands outside for 10 minutes, scrolling through emails on his phone. By the time he gets to the squad room, she’s back at her desk like she never even left, combing through surveillance footage.
Before he can say hello (and he wants to, even after having just seen her), Liv pokes her head out of her office, asks, “Rollins, you got a minute?”
She gets up, deliberately brushing the back of her hand against his as she squeezes past him.
He sets his briefcase down and sits on the edge of Kat’s desk. “Hey, Kat, how’s it going?”
She gives him a quick nod before focusing back on her share of footage. “Counselor. Thanks for getting us that warrant for the self-storage facility.”
“Yeah, no worries. Anything interesting?”
The young detective shakes her head. “Nothing yet, but we just got started.”
“Yeah, that’s fair.” He hesitates, then crosses his arms, angling his body towards hers. “Listen, d’you mind if I ask you something?”
She clocks his lowered voice and leans back in her seat, giving him her full attention. “Shoot.”
“Yesterday, when you and Rollins were out interviewing people—anyone seem funny to you?”
“You mean like, guilty?” she frowns, not sure what he’s getting at.
“No, like—paid a little too much attention to Rollins, or, or, got personal with her,” he clarifies, already regretting broaching the topic in the first place.
Kat tilts her head, thinking. “No, not really. Why, did something happen?” Her dark eyes flash with concern.
“Nah, everything’s fine, forget I said anything,” he backpedals hastily.
She holds her hands up. “You asked.”
He scrubs a frustrated hand over his face. “Yeah, yeah.”
She stares suspiciously at him before her lips curl into a smirk. “Gotta say, Counselor—jealousy ain’t a good look on you.”
They both turn at the sound of Liv’s office door opening. Amanda steps out, jerks her head. “Cap says to go right in, Carisi.”
“Thank God,” he says, grabbing his briefcase.
Confused, Amanda looks at him, then over at Kat, who’s laughing her head off. “Do I want to know?”
“Yes,” Kat says, same time as Sonny delivers an emphatic “no.”
Amanda rolls her eyes. “Got it.”
* * *
He’s trying to make the most out of what’s left of the workday by catching up on paperwork when he hears an exuberant “Amanda, hey!” outside his office.
His head snaps up. He hurries over to the window that looks out onto the desks of other ADAs and interns, and peers through the blinds with narrowed eyes.
She’s standing by the elevators, on the path towards his office, but Ben Crosby’s intercepted her, a wide grin on his boyish face as he piles on the charm.
He lets go of the blinds with a snap and sits back down at his desk while Crosby’s voice gets louder, amplified by the low-ceilinged hallway.
“I’m just saying—Broadway’s opening back up again, and I know a guy, so let me know if you feel like catching a show,” he says.
“I’m good,” she tries to say, inching her way inside.
“With me,” he interjects unnecessarily, leaning against the doorframe and waiting for her response.
“Thanks for coming, Detective,” Sonny says loudly, walking over and putting a hand on the doorknob. “Hey, Crosby, sorry—got some official business to take care of, you know.”
The closing door just barely misses the tip of Crosby’s shoe, but he can’t bring himself to feel any guilt.
“He this persistent in the courtroom?” she asks, reaching out for his hand to intertwine their fingers.
He snorts. “One’d think so, but… I don’t know, think you bring it out of him. He’s always following you around like a little puppy dog.”
“Carisi,” she points out, trying not to laugh, “that’s what you do.”
“Yeah, okay,” he concedes, cheeks red as he ducks down to kiss her.
“And I know what you’re thinking,” she says, pulling away just long enough to speak, “he’s not the one who asked me out yesterday, okay?”
“Better not have been,” he grumbles against her lips. “Two days in a row—now that’s just being cocky.”
* * *
That night, she’s up to her elbows in soapy water, scrubbing crusted on cheese off of a baking dish, when he says, “So I’ve been thinking.”
She lets it fall back into the suds so she can turn around to look at him. He’s leaned up against the counter, passing the dish towel that’s normally slung on his shoulder back and forth between his hands. “Yeah?”
“If you’re free Friday night,” he says, watching her face carefully, “how ‘bout you and I go get dinner, and, I don’t know—maybe see a movie?”
She takes the dish towel from him and dries her hands, her eyes not leaving his. “You asking me out on a date, Counselor?”
“Only seems fair,” he shrugs, a small smile breaking through his nervousness, “seeing as how it’s been the best three weeks of my life so far, and I haven’t even taken you out yet.”
Her gaze softens, his words ringing true for herself, too. She stands on tiptoe, fists his Fordham hoodie for balance so she can press a kiss onto his cheek. “And this has nothing to do with you being on my case about who asked me out?” she murmurs against his skin.
He chuckles, and she can feel the sound rumbling through his chest. “Not exactly, but it did make me realize something.” He pulls back a little so he can get a better look at her. “You and me—this is all I’ve wanted for, I don’t know, five years at least. Now we’re here, and to not have to hide it out there...” He juts his chin out past her, towards the window and the city that lies beyond it. “I’m not sayin’ I’m going to shout it from the rooftops or anything, but just like, getting to hold your hand, or walking into the 16th together—”
“You saying you want to make this official? Disclosure paperwork, telling our friends, the whole nine.”
“Only if you’re ready,” he hedges.
She releases her bottom lip from between her teeth. “Okay.”
“I mean, it wouldn’t be that different—” He stops in mid-argument, stares at her wide-eyed. “Wait, you said okay.”
“I did,” she says, reaching up to clasp her hands around his neck. “But just so you know, I already told someone about us.”
His hands slide down to her waist, pulling her closer. “Oh yeah? Who?”
“Alex, from yoga class,” she says. “Wanted to know if I wanted to get brunch, like on a date. And I told her I’d just started something that’s actually been a long time coming.”
He swallows, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat. “Amanda, you gotta know—I-I love you, alright?”
Her breath catches at hearing the words for the first time, even though it’s nothing she isn’t already sure of. “I love you, too, Dominick.”
He captures her lips with his, and in the middle of her tiny kitchen, they sway together like they did that first night.
“Carisi,” she whispers when they break apart for air, their foreheads still pressed together.
“Yeah,” he says, voice ragged.
“Just—you’re kinda cute when you’re jealous.”
He groans and covers her mouth once more with a kiss.