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The knife comes down to slice the tomato one last time. Olivia holds the slices together and turns them, she dices them on the cutting board. The scent of basil and olive oil has her looking over. Beside her, Rafael is arranging leaves on the slices of cheese on the bread.
“Perhaps a bit of oregano?” he suggests.
She beams. “I like the sound of that.” The captain places the tomato cubes in a small glass bowl. “Tomato is done, now for the onion, right?”
“Right,” he says. “I need to make the picadillo .”
“ Picadillo ?” she smirks.
He shoots her a sideways glance.“English doesn’t have a word good enough to describe this dish and you know that. Do we have diced garlic?”
“Besides the tomatoes,” she replies, grabbing an onion. Benson cuts a fourth of it, the dicing begins.
Footsteps approach. “Are you super busy?” Amanda’s voice asks.
“We need to make the picadillo for the lasagna, but we’re almost done with the bruschettas ,” Barba informs. “Why? Is Carisi hungry already? Or is it Fin?”
Rollins smirks. “Not wanting to inflate your ego, counselor, but everyone is hungry with the food smelling like this. But no, that’s not it. I wanted to make an announcement now that Sonny is here.”
“An announcement on his birthday?” the man raises an eyebrow. “I thought wedding etiquette applied, for some reason.”
The detective rolls her eyes. “Can you come or not?” The blonde pauses, she tips her head to observe Olivia. A sniff is heard and Rafael spins on his feet. “Liv, are you crying?”
“My eyes hurt from the onions,” she says.
“Let me see your eyes,” Barba asks. “Okay, they’re really red. Did you wash this onion before cutting it?”
“No, I forgot,” she mumbles.
The attorney washes his hands. “Close your eyes for me,” he runs his fingers over her eyes. “This isn’t good. Amanda, get her to the bathroom so she can wash her face, please.”
“On it,” says Rollins, approaching her boss and guiding her by the arm to the bathroom. “Please tell me it was the onions and not because you know what I’m going to say,” she mutters.
Olivia chuckles. “I didn’t cry the other two times, did I?” She tries opening her eyes and finds them near the bathroom door, she keeps her hands to herself, lets Amanda open the door.
“Wash your hands first,” says the blonde. “We don’t need to get any more onion in your eyes.”
The captain has her hands full of soap, she speaks. “Damn onions stung my eyes and my brain wasn’t cooperating.”
Detective Rollins leans against the bathroom door. “I didn’t think you’d forget to wash onions out of the blue. What’s wrong?”
Benson’s eyes are returning to their white, but there is still redness. Amanda can’t determine if the onions had been responsible for all of it. The brunette sighs, shakes her head. “I’m having a good day with you, Noah, Jessie, Billie, Fin, Kat. We’re setting up this little thing for Carisi’s birthday, but then there’s Rafael cooking with me and I remember how we worked well together and I miss him as if he isn’t right next to me.”
The blonde exhales. She wets her lips, places both her hands on her waist. “Oh, boy.”
“Don’t say it,” the captain intervenes.
“I won’t,” she shrugs. “But you have to admit it’s something. Liv, I know he was important, I’ve never seen you like this with anyone else. The two of you were super close and kind of the power couple WITHOUT being a couple, but… I don’t know, I catch myself wondering why you were never a thing, you know?”
“It’d have been a good deal of a conflict of interest,” Olivia points out.
“Yes, would have . Not anymore,” Amanda declares, eyes on the other’s face.
The pair hear footsteps. Rollins glances over her shoulder.
“Okay, the topic is coming our way,” she mutters. “Hey, I’m berating her for such a rookie move. I don’t know now if she’s crying out of anger or she still needs to wash her face.”
Benson rolls her eyes. She washes them, easing the stinging.
“Liv?” Barba calls out. “How is it?”
“Getting better,” she replies.
“You put the bruschettas in the oven, right?” Amanda asks.
“Yes,” answers the attorney.
“Good, I’ll wait on them, you take care of her.”
“Right.”
Rollins walks away, she shoots a look over her shoulder before heading to Olivia’s kitchen.
“May I see them?” Rafael asks.
Benson dries her face, she turns to him.
“They look better. You should probably stay away from the onions for now, though,” he says. “I’ll finish cutting them.”
“The lasagna will go faster with the two of us working on it,” she says.
“That’s why I’m assigning you to sauce duty,” he replies, beaming. “I’ll give you the directions to my special sauce.”
“I thought it was a secret,” she raises an eyebrow.
“And it’ll die with you, I’ll make sure of that.” He regards her. “Feeling better?”
Her smile is bittersweet. “I’ll get there.”
He glances over his shoulder. “Hug while no one is looking?”
She shakes her head but accepts it. Rafael kisses her forehead and Olivia has to fight back a knot on her throat. “You’re not making this easier.”
“Sorry,” he whispers. “I don’t like seeing you like this.” He sighs. “You know I’m here for you, right? Whatever happens. You could kill someone and I’d still be here.”
“That’s worrying.”
Barba smirks. “It’s true, though. Someone would need to defend you. I mean it, Liv. Whatever happens.”
The captain pulls back, faces him. “Thank you, Rafa.”
“Anytime.” He gives her a soft squeeze. “Come on, the lasagna won’t finish itself.”