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Sonny looked up from his desk at Amanda’s soft snort and turned his head to follow her gaze. When all he saw was Barba’s back, as the ADA headed for the exit, he looked back at her questioningly.
“What?”
“I think,” Amanda grinned, “Barba fucked his security detail.”
Chuckling, Sonny glanced back over his shoulder, but both Barba and his assigned babysitter were already gone.
“Why, what’s he done now?” he asked, ready to have his drab morning brightened by whatever amusing story Amanda had picked up off the poor bastard who was responsible for keeping Barba unharmed this week. While Sonny would have to lie – and would most definitely lie! - to claim being paid to look at Rafael Barba’s ass all day wasn’t something he’d sign up for in a heartbeat, he wasn’t so smitten (yet) as not to realize the job might very well also include suffering Rafael Barba BEING an ass all day.
Sure, Barba had grudgingly accepted the necessity of a security detail – after all, he’d asked them for help, he must’ve known (dreaded) that this was what that help would look like. But that didn’t mean he didn’t treat it like a stubborn kid would treat a winter coat; something you were told you needed, but dropped at every given opportunity and sometimes forgot where you left it. He usually made up for it by at least staying at exceptionally nice places for a comfortable amount of time and paying the cops’ tabs before heading home, but there had been one or two angry phone calls to SVU already, unnerved colleagues needing to be to told that, “Oh, actually he’s… here? Where did you think he was?”
Obviously, those had been followed by Liv sternly closing her door and the rest of them snickering at the show of Barba trying to look contrite.
After suffering through Liv’s reprimands, Barba had reigned in his apparent escape reflex as well as he could, but still he remained an uneasy target to watch, so much so that Fin had joked that if the last few weeks had proven anything it was that Barba didn’t really NEED a security detail at all, since he was impossible to keep track of even for cops.
“If his career ever spirals, there’s definite mob qualities here. We’d never catch him.”
Amanda had just nodded, talking over Sonny’s snort. “You’d think you could just follow his ties, really.”
“Classic mob move,” Fin had replied, unimpressed. “Hiding in plain sight.”
“I don’t think he’s even aware he’s doing it,” Sonny had said, earning two ‘oh my god, you’re adorable’-looks from his colleagues. “What?” But they had just shaken their heads at him and returned to their work.
It was the same expression he saw on Amanda’s face now, when she lifted her brows at him. “No,” she said, “I mean I think he FUCKED his security detail. Well, one of them, anyway.”
Distantly, Sonny was aware that the way his smile slid off his face must look rather embarrassing, but he couldn’t help it. “… wh…” he asked and quickly cleared his throat, when he heard his own squeaky voice. “Wh… why?” Much more eloquent. He clamped his mouth shut.
Amanda laughed. “God. You,” she said by way of explanation and added, “You didn’t see that expression on O’Neill’s face? The ‘thank you for last night, counselor’-look?”
Sonny’s gaze wandered over to where he’d last seen O’Neill as if expecting the shadow of that look to have been burnt into the wall. Looking back at Amanda, he opened his mouth to say something smart like ‘no’ or ‘Would he still call him by his title then?’ but before he could think of anything, Amanda said, “Plus, he’s wearing Barba’s shirt.”
All the smart left Sonny’s brain in a poof of dumbing fog. He stared at Amanda, not even really seeing – and far beyond caring, really – how incredibly much she was enjoying this. “Why…” he started and suddenly frowned, “would you know Barba’s shirts?” There! Detective skills! Tough questions! Obvious bullshit debunked by piercing, intelligent questioni-
“He wore it yesterday,” Amanda said. “And it’s too small on O’Neill.” She winked and snorted again at Sonny’s reaction. “Observe, Carisi. Always observe.”
And with that, she went back to typing her report, satisfied she’d gotten a little giggle out of this morning. Sonny thought he could see her forgetting the whole thing as the need for coffee was shoving all other thoughts from her mind.
Before she’d notice he was still staring, he quickly leaned back in his chair, turning his gaze away to where O’Neill had stood upon entering the bullpen to escort Barba out to the car. HAD he been wearing a striped light blue shirt? Sonny frowned in thought, trying hard to conjure up the image of the man from just five minutes ago, but he couldn’t remember.
He knew what shirt BARBA had worn, of course. Just as he knew which shirt Amanda was referring to, too, since he’d seen Barba wear it the day before. No, he had no trouble remembering Barba’s outfits from any day prior… but fuck him if he could tell if O’Neill had even worn a shirt at all.
Secretly glancing back at Amanda, he wondered if there was any way he could inquire as to why she was so quick to jump to that conclusion. Was there something he didn’t know? Did Barba have a… reputation? Something Sonny had missed entirely the whole time he’d been part of the squad now?
Unlikely.
So for Amanda to think that, it must have been incredibly obvious. But how? Barba hadn’t looked at O’Neill in any… special way. Sonny knew that for sure, because when he was near Barba, he observed every detail of the ADA’s reactions to anything and anyone. Or maybe it had been in the few seconds Sonny had allowed his gaze to travel down Barba’s...
He shook his head curtly to clear his head and sat up straighter. Bullshit. That’s all it was. Amanda was just…
He deflated again, shoulders slumping. Surely Amanda WASN’T just messing with him, she wouldn’t know this constituted as messing at all. Would she?
Was he that obvious? He looked over at her, but, no, she was typing away, frowning in thought, occasionally lifting her coffee mug, then seemed to remember she hadn’t filled it, yet, and put it down again.
Normal.
Amanda didn’t know. She’d merely found it funny to have spotted something so personal about their notoriously private ADA and had taken delight in sharing it with her partner.
As you did.
Sonny rubbed his forehead by way of keeping from just burying his face in his hands. What was he DOING? So fucking what if it was true? He didn’t expect Barba to live like a monk, did he? Hell, most of his sexual fantasies these days revolved around Barba behaving decidedly UN-monk-ish. And it wasn’t like it was likely that they were dating. The very idea of Rafael Barba dating… anyone, really, seemed… well.
Exciting, was what Sonny’s unhelpful heart was trying to tell him, all butterfly-wings-fluttery and spring-happy like a teenage bunny, but of course ludicrous was the right word.
It was fucking ludicrous to think Barba was doing anything other than have a good night’s fuck once in a blue moon, because it’d been offered - and then grudgingly handing over a used shirt for… as of yet unknown reasons. IF that was even what had happened.
A part of Sonny almost wanted to snicker at the thought of Barba detesting his one-night-stand now because the man had somehow made it necessary to keep a fucking shirt. By coming on his own maybe.
Sonny sighed. That line of thought wasn’t helpful.
He was kept from speculating on further reasons you gave someone a recently used shirt that didn’t involve taking it off first by Olivia hurrying out of her office and stopping abruptly.
“Oh. Crap. Barba gone?” she asked.
Sonny nodded, caught Amanda doing the same from the corner of his eye. And she didn’t look amused anymore in the slightest. She HAD forgotten already.
Fucking hell.
“Went back to his office to look up that loophole,” Sonny said, not adding ‘took his fucking babysitter with him and it’s not driving me insane at all that I can’t remember if O’Neill is hot, nobody worry about that.’
“Yeah, well,” Liv sighed, lifting a file she was holding, “he forgot the statements.” Clearly annoyed, she shook her head and reached into her pocket for her phone, muttering something about SOMEONE needing a damn vacation.
“Wait Lieu,” Sonny said and got up, “give it here, I’ll drop it on my way back from that guy’s studio, uh… Himdude.” He quickly checked his notes on his desk. “Garrity. I was gonna show him the victim’s picture, anyway, I’ll stop at the ADA’s office.”
Liv handed him the file. “Thanks, Carisi.”
“No prob,” Sonny said. “You don’t wanna make them drive him here again, so he can uber back and cause a city-wide lockdown.”
Liv snorted, turning back to her office. “Don’t I know it. Whoever’s behind those threats has drawn the wrath of most of the NYPD and NOT cause they all love Barba like we do.” With that, she threw Sonny a parting smile and closed her door.
No, Sonny thought, probably not like… they all did, no.
“Bring coffee,” Amanda said without looking up from her screen. “The good one, not Starbucks.”
“What’d you take me for?” Sonny replied, grabbing his jacket he’d hung over his chair.
“Can’t say that out loud in public.”
Sonny rolled his eyes for her benefit and put on his jacket. “One tea, extra green, coming right up.” He grinned at her flipping him off. “Later, partner.”
***
Himdude Whatshisname didn’t recognize the victim, but was believably shaken by seeing a picture of the woman he’d found dead in his studio. It immediately endeared him to Sonny that his eyes got watery and sad at the image of the laughing young girl, who had been robbed of her life so brutally. Sonny never got over those people who’d glance at a picture and shrug as if they weren’t fully aware that the person was DEAD now or missing or in some other way suffering terribly. Like they didn’t realize at all that they might have SEEN this person alive and well, that they’d maybe shared moments with someone who was now lost to the world. How cold people could be in the face of misery – it never ceased to amaze Sonny.
By the time he walked down the hall to the ADA’s office, he wasn’t exactly sure anymore why he’d offered to do the trip, really. Was he really going to check if more people wore Barba’s discarded clothes?
Sonny sighed. It had seemed like a good idea at the time.
Carmen wasn’t at her usual spot behind her desk; either out for a late lunch or on an errand run, so Sonny peeked round the half-open door to Barba’s office.
Barba was scribbling at his desk in his usual, oddly furious way, like his notes would hold more venom if he put them to paper as violently as possible. He was, Sonny noticed, still dressed the same as he had been a few hours earlier at SVU. If that was supposed to come as a relief to him or as proof he, Sonny, was seriously losing it now and should transfer to somewhere with a less distracting ADA, he wasn’t exactly sure, but the uncontrollable part of him (that’d been running the show for months now, if he was being honest) settled for relief at the fact that Barba had kept THIS shirt, since it was one of Sonny’s favorites.
Oh boy. It was getting worse.
“If you’re trying to remember how to knock,” Barba’s voice tore Sonny out of his helpless musing, “you curl your fingers like this and go,” and he knocked loudly on his desk, then looked up at Sonny with a tired smirk. “Do it next time. What d’you want?”
“Sorry,” Sonny smiled. “You forgot this.”
Frowning at the file Sonny was holding up, Barba threw down his pen and flomped back in his chair. “Oh. So I did.” He watched as Sonny put the folder on his desk, the always present urgent ‘get on with this shit’-expression on his face softening to an almost apologetic one. “Thanks, Carisi, you didn’t have to come out all this way, I could’ve picked it up later.”
“No problem, I was in the neighborhood, anyway. We… didn’t want to bother your shadow any further,” Sonny added with a cheeky smile that he knew would earn him a rather cute little eyeroll-grunt, which it did.
“How thoughtful. I’ll be sure to pass it on.”
“Where is he, anyway?” Sonny asked, trying so hard to sound casual he was sure he looked like a complete idiot.
“Who?” Barba asked, looking up from where he’d returned to his notes. He seemed half surprised, half annoyed that Sonny was still there.
“O’Neill,” Sonny said. “I didn’t see the car outside.”
“O’Neill… ?” Definitely more annoyed now, like Sonny was wasting his precious time.
“Your security detail. O’Neill.”
“Oh. Is it him today? I get them mixed up. He’s not outside?”
Sonny felt the frown start on his face before he could stop it. First Amanda, now Barba… Was HE messing with him? But why would he? He had no reason to suspect Sonny had any actual interest in determining how well he knew his babysitters. Or did he? He had, on occasion, shown signs of being rather observant himself, but-
“Carisi.”
Sonny blinked sharply. “What? Yes. Sorry, no, I mean, no, he’s not outside. Carmen isn’t, either, though, maybe they went to lunch.”
Barba gave him a peculiar look. “Right. Another case solved, Detective Holmes. Is there anything else I can do for you?”
“No.” Sonny wondered if it was okay to bother God with asking him to keep him from blushing, just this once. “No, no, just… I was just wondering, I mean, he’s supposed to stay around, you know, for, you know, for your protection, but I guess no one would try… I mean, here might be safe, but still.” He nodded, desperately wishing for his mouth to stop doing what it was doing. “He should… you know. He should stay… around. It’s his job.” More nodding.
While Sonny was inwardly telling himself to ‘stop talking, you moron, what the fuck!’, Barba seemed to enjoy the show, having leaned back a little in his chair to study the stammering detective with a confused smile spreading on his face.
“I shall… let him know NYPD’s finest thinks him horribly neglectful,” he said at last.
“No, no, I, shit, I didn’t mean that. No.”
Barba waited for a moment, gaze never leaving Sonny, who was by now dead sure his prayers hadn’t been heard and he was blushing rather alarmingly, then said, “I would love to hear what it is you DO mean, but-”
“Yes,” Sonny cut him off, gesturing wildly in a manner he hoped conveyed ‘I understand, I’ll get out of your hair’ rather than ‘I’ve gone insane, help me’ and took a step back towards the door, “of course, sorry. I’ll let you get back to your work. I, uh… yeah.”
By now openly smiling at him like you would at a puppy that had gotten its head stuck in a boot, Barba watched him retreat. Well, Sonny figured, he always wanted to leave a lasting impression with the ADA…
“Thanks for the file, Carisi,” Barba said through a suppressed chuckle and for some reason that amused tone made Sonny stop in the doorway and look back.
“Yeah, uh…” He drew in a discreet deep breath. “Sure and, you know, this case’s been really, uh, well… You look pretty tired, I guess it’s tough on all of… I mean. Yeah. Dinner later?”
Barba blinked. “Excuse me?”
“Dinner,” Sonny said before he could stop himself. “I’m sure you haven’t eaten all day, so…” He shrugged slightly. His heart was going so fast, he only hoped he’d pass out outside the building and not right there in the hallway.
The one time Sonny really wanted him to shoot back a reply, Barba took his time to put down his pen and slowly get to his feet, round his desk and lean against it, arms crossed in front of his chest.
"Do you maybe want to rephrase that?” he asked.
Sonny swallowed, the blood throbbing in his ears. Barba never looked entirely… harmless, sure, but he still shouldn’t be able to provoke a flight-or-fight reaction just by pursing his lips like that and looking at you. It was a bit unfair, Sonny thought.
“What?” he managed to ask eventually.
But Barba didn’t say anything, just tilted his head in that way of his that always reminded Sonny of the velociraptors from Jurassic Park.
Their eyes met, Sonny’s narrowing ever so slightly as his Detective Sense not only tingled but rang out deafeningly.
“Would you,” he said, suddenly so calm he sounded like an adult even to his own ears, “like to go out with me tonight?”
It was amazing to see how the happy grin spread almost entirely in Barba’s eyes, the rest of his face seemingly not giving away anything. But then, Sonny had always figured Barba’s eyes were his achilles heel. Most people just didn’t expect him to have one, was all.
“As a matter of fact, I would,” he said. “Seven work for you? You can pick me up, relieve McIntyre from his duties he’s so carelessly neglecting.”
“O’Neill.”
“Him, too,” Barba said, unimpressed. “I’ll tell him it’s okay, someone else will take over watching me tonight.” And again, the spark was mostly in his eyes.
Sonny almost gasped, but caught himself just in time. “You… do that,” he nodded. “I hope he won’t be too disappointed. Or you.” It was out before he could reign it in. At least the incredulous groan that followed stayed mostly inside.
Barba’s smile changed from flirtatious to confused again. “Beg your pardon?”
“Nothing,” Sonny hastened to say. He really needed to ask his doctor for something against blushing so much the next time he saw her. Wasn’t blushing an allergic reaction to embarrassment? Surely there was stuff you could take for it. “Seven’s perfect. I’ll… yeah.” He nodded, inwardly yelling at himself to say something suave and sexy and get the fuck out of there. But he wasn’t moving.
Barba was watching him, expression unreadable now. “I think I’m… missing something here,” he said. “A rare occasion, I hope you’re feeling appropriately honored to witness it.”
“Oh sure.” Sonny nodded.
Barba snorted. “Carisi…”
Sonny felt his shoulders slump. He really wished he’d just have Liv call Barba back. “It’s nothing, I’m… what you do in-in your… I mean, I… it’s none of my business.” He arched his brows apologetically.
“And here I thought you were about to make it your business,” Barba said.
Dumbfounded, Sonny stared at him.
When it became clear Sonny wouldn’t do much else in the foreseeable future, Barba unfolded his arms and gripped his desktop he was still leaning against on either side. Sonny wasn’t sure if he looked tense or excited. Knowing Barba, probably a mixture of both.
“I’m no detective,” Barba started, “so bear with me here. D’you think I’ve had sex with I forgot his name again?”
“O’Neill,” Sonny said. “It’s really rude, by the way. His job is to protect you with his life and you can’t even be bothered to remember his name for five seconds.”
“Eh, I fondly refer to him as Tall Guy in my head, it’s an endearing nickname.”
“I’m sure he’d appreciate that,” Sonny said.
“I’m not the one who called him a bad cop earlier,” Barba pointed out. “And you haven’t answered my question.”
And there was the blush again. Sonny sighed. Scratched at his forehead nervously. “I told you, I, it’s none of my buis-”
“Whatever gave you that idea?” Barba interrupted him, sounding genuinely surprised. “Was it the not knowing his name or the not knowing where he even IS right now or…” He raised his brows, waiting.
Sonny would be the first to admit he was smitten with this man, he really, really was and he knew it and he wanted nothing more than to take him to dinner and maybe kiss him goodnight and maybe more and maybe more often and maybe everything – but he was honestly starting to doubt if this torture was worth any of it. He’d prefer a shootout with unfortunate odds to this any day.
Lowering his gaze, he muttered, “Amanda just, uhm… she … kinda pointed it out.”
“ROLLINS thinks I’m having sex with my babysitters?”
Sonny quickly looked up again. Judging from the high-pitched almost squeak Barba’s voice had turned into, he figured it was a shame he had missed the exact reaction on his face. “Yeah,” he said, “but she doesn’t care.”
Oh God.
Fortunately, Barba didn’t seem to have listened. “Why would she think that?”
“Cause O’Neill was wearing your shirt,” Sonny said. “And I guess she caught him checking you out, but… mostly cause of the shirt.”
Maybe it was worth it after all. A little. The look on Barba’s face was priceless, anyway.
“Are you fucking with me, Carisi?” Sonny didn’t reply, but Barba apparently hadn’t expected him to. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think this is some elaborate prank. Why in god’s name would I let some random cop wear my clothes and how does that prove I’ve slept with them?”
“I… wondered that, too,” Sonny admitted.
Barba actually laughed. “And?”
Sonny opened his mouth, but not knowing the answers, really, closed it again.
“Okay. And Rollins recognizes my shirts?”
He was going to kill Amanda. After all, this was all her fault. Really. Somehow. “She said it, uh, it was the one you, uhm… wore yesterday? And it didn’t fit O’Neill, and he IS taller than you and… uh…” Sonny trailed off, but at least this time he didn’t miss the moment the words reached Barba.
“Yesterday? So because sex,” Barba said and it didn’t take him much effort to make it all sound rather ridiculous, “I let a police officer drive me around ALL DAY in a used shirt of mine, presumably since his was the victim of passionate shenanigans. Have I got that right?”
Pretty much, Sonny thought, but didn’t say anything.
“And you and Rollins figured all that because you saw a man sporting ill-fitting attire… what, smile at me when I wasn’t looking?”
“She didn’t say exactly what… he was looking at,” Sonny said.
“Maybe my shirt?” Barba asked. “Consumed by jealousy of anyone capable of buying clothes in their right size?”
Sonny sighed. “Alright, you made your poi-”
“Is that how you solve crimes over there? Thank god for Liv and Tutuola.”
“Look, I’m sorry, I guess she just assu-”
“And you believed that?” Barba cut him off again. “Is that why you suddenly found the courage to finally make a move?”
Startled, Sonny froze with his mouth still open. “… uh…”
“Well,” Barba grinned. “Guess I owe Rollins, then. And O’Neville. Should get him a gift card for J. Crew.”
Laughing despite himself, Sonny shook his head. “Harsh, counselor.”
Barba’s smirk turned lopsided. Sonny had always wondered if he was aware of how sexy it looked – apparently so, the way he used it now. “Don’t tell me you mind, detective.”
Being the target of that particular smirk sent a wave of warmth through Sonny’s body; the good kind of blushing. “You’re never letting me live this down, are you?” he asked playfully and smiled at Barba laughing out loud.
“Of course not, don’t be silly.”
Sonny nodded, drinking in the sight of a seemingly truly happy Barba. Not the worst start, he figured. “So…” he said, putting on his own best sexy smile. “Seven?”
“Yup,” Barba nodded. “I’m not sure how you’re going to top how entertaining this conversation has been, but I’m looking forward to watching you try.” He winked. It was the hottest thing Sonny had ever seen.
“I have ways,” he said, wincing a bit at his lameness.
Barba snorted. “I bet. Now shoo, I need to finish this and they’re probably missing you at Special Rumors already.” He made a little waving gesture and pushed himself off his desk to walk back to his chair.
Smiling like an idiot, Sonny nodded, thought about some clever parting line, didn’t come up with one and just turned for the door.
“Sonny,” Barba called after him and Sonny whirled around. “You’re paying.”
Sonny bit back a grin and nodded. “Oh, I figured that, Rafael.” And with that, he hurried out the door, feeling Barba’s gaze following him till he had turned the corner.
THE END