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“Carmen?”
Barba didn’t look up from the stack of messages in his hand when his assistant strode into his office. “Mr. Barba?”
“If John Buchanan calls back tomorrow, can you kindly tell him the plea proposal he sent me would be more effectively used as toilet paper, and I will see him in court next week?” He punctuated this by finally looking up from his messages, expression neutral but a sparkle of amusement in his eyes.
Carmen, used to his sarcasm, wit, and distaste for Buchanan smiled and leaned against the door. “You can tell him that yourself, sir,” she replied mildly. “Though I would absolutely love to.”
“Probably for the best, since I’m the one rejecting the deal.” He dropped the messages in the open briefcase on his desk and began stacking files to add to the pile. “I’ll be in court in the morning, but here in the afternoon.” He glanced at the clock. “The SVU squad is out on a raid at the moment, and I expect I will need to appear at an arraignment sometime tomorrow. Can you draft the brief I emailed you about before I come in so I can review and tweak it before I send it over to Judge Wheeler?”
She rolled her eyes. “Already half done,” she said. “You act like I haven’t been your assistant for three years.”
Barba grinned. “What would I do without you?” He glanced down when his phone rang. “There’s Lieutenant Benson,” he said. “Let me take this and see what’s going on. I’ll keep you posted if I need to go to arraignment tomorrow.”
Carmen nodded, closing the door behind her as she exited the room. “Barba,” he greeted, closing the latches on his briefcase.
“Rafa, it’s Liv,” his friend’s voice greeted him.
“Need me to arraign him in the morning?” He set the briefcase upright and reached for his coat.
There was a pause. “No,” she said quietly. “He’s dead.”
Coat forgotten, he stopped. “What happened?”
“It was a good shoot, Barba,” she replied. “He had a gun point-blank against my detective’s head. If I hadn’t shot him, I’d have a dead detective right now. I would much rather it be Cole, given everything he did.”
“I trust you, Liv,” he said. “Did he confess?”
“Yes,” she replied. “And I have witnesses who are willing to testify to that. He had taken both Quinn and his wife hostage. They’ve given statements that are now on record, and we’re almost clear here.”
Barba paused, listening to the silence on her end of the phone. “There’s something you’re not telling me,” he said.
He could hear Benson shift on the other end of the phone. “Look, he won’t like me telling you this, but…”
A hot ball of anxiety filled his gut. “But...?”
“The detective Cole pulled the gun on was Carisi.”
His stomach dropped through to his toes. Sonny. “Okay,” he said slowly, struggling to remain calm. “You’re not telling me to rush to the hospital right away so is he safe?” Images from Mike Dodds’ recent funeral tumbled through Rafael’s mind, and he closed his eyes to block them out. Sonny was fine. Liv said she would have had a dead detective, which meant Sonny was alive.
“Physically he is absolutely fine,” she said quickly. “Sorry, I should have led with that. He’s unhurt. But he is really shaken. When I shot Cole, he still had the gun against Carisi’s forehead. He was point-blank, and he caught blood spatter all over him. He’s holding up, but he’s wobbly.”
Rafael closed his eyes, blew out a breath of relief, and sank into his chair. “Gracias a Dios,” he muttered to himself.
“I’m sorry, Rafa, I didn’t mean to scare you.”
“It’s fine,” he said, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I just—" He cut himself off, remembering Liv’s tear-streaked face at the funeral.
“You were thinking about Dodds,” she said, softly.
“Yeah,” he replied. And I imagine Sonny is, too. “You said he’s shaken up. Do I need to come?”
“No.” Liv was firm, decisive. “Just, maybe be there for him tonight. I think he’ll need you.”
Rafael gazed at a photo of he and Sonny at Christmas he had framed and placed on the corner of his desk. He reached out and lightly touched the corner. “Not even a question.”
***
Sonny’s exhaustion was bone-deep. The adrenaline of the day had worn off about halfway back to the precinct, and he still had reports and statements to write up. He wanted nothing more than a hot shower and to crawl into bed, but the paperwork needed to be filed. He blinked several times and struggled to focus on the computer screen in front of him. The words were beginning to swim in front of his eyes.
A text message alerted from his phone, and he glanced over at it, a small smile touching his lips when Rafael’s name popped up on the screen.
Come to my place when you’re done, not yours. I’m getting takeout from that Italian place you love so much.
His mouth almost watered when he thought about the Lasagna al Forno the restaurant served. It crossed his mind that he hadn’t eaten since lunch, and it was pushing eight. I need a shower and a change of clothes first, he texted back.
The response was immediate, almost as though Rafael had anticipated it. You keep extra clothes and toiletries here for just that very reason, Detective. I’ll keep the lasagna warm. See you in a bit.
He sighed and rubbed his forehead but smiled despite himself.
“Go home, Carisi.”
He looked up to see Benson, carrying her jacket and bag, exiting her office, and stepping into the bullpen. “I need to finish this,” he said, gesturing vaguely at the report on his screen.
“You’re exhausted,” she said. “You’ve you have your notes so you won’t forget anything. Go home, clean up, get something to eat, and get some sleep.”
He paused, eyeing her suspiciously. “Did you call Barba?”
Benson’s expression gave nothing away. “I needed to tell him we wouldn’t need an arraignment.”
Sonny’s eyes narrowed. “Then why is he insisting I come to his place and talking about getting takeout lasagna?”
“Sounds like he wants to feed you,” Benson replied, patting him on the shoulder as she passed by. “I need to get home to Noah.” Hoisting her bag up on her shoulder, she turned and headed towards the elevator. “Go home, Carisi,” she reiterated over her shoulder, and disappeared.
He stared at the computer screen for a long minute and debated just finishing the report. “To hell with it,” he finally muttered to himself. He saved the draft, shut off the computer, grabbed his coat, and followed Benson out the door.
***
Twenty minutes later, Sonny rang Barba’s doorbell, leaning tiredly against the door frame. He had briefly considered making a stop at his own apartment first, despite what his partner had said. There was still blood lingering in his hairline, turning his stomach. He desperately wanted to clean up before he did anything. But, despite his annoyance with Benson for obviously telling Rafael what had happened that day, the attorney did have a far more spacious shower than he did, and the bed was much more comfortable.
And he wouldn’t be alone in the bed, which was a bigger bonus.
Rafael answered the door, still dressed in his trousers and dress shirt. He’d shed his vest, jacket, and tie, and rolled up his sleeves. His feet were bare, and he had a kitchen towel thrown over his shoulder. “Sonny,” he said, eyes warming at the sight of him. “Why do you still ring the doorbell? The doorman clearly recognizes you well enough to let you in without buzzing me, and you have a key.”
Sonny shrugged. “Wasn’t thinking,” he replied. He paused to drop a tired kiss on Rafael’s lips as he entered the apartment, hanging his jacket up by the door seconds later.
“You look exhausted,” Rafael said, surveying him.
“It’s been a helluva day.” Sonny scrubbed his face with his hand.
Rafael regarded him a long moment. “Is that blood in your hair?” he asked quietly.
Sonny closed his eyes. “Yeah,” he said. “Like I said…”
“Hell of a day,” Barba agreed. He seemed to think something over and nodded to himself in decision. “Head on to the bathroom. I’ll keep the lasagna warm and be right there.”
“Rafael, I can take a shower on my own.”
The attorney held up a silencing hand. “Just trust me, Sonny.” And he disappeared into the kitchen.
Sonny stood and stared at the kitchen door for a long moment before he threw up his hands in surrender and, muttering to himself, headed down the hall to the master bathroom. He had just dropped to the side of the bed and began pulling his shoes off when Rafael entered the room. Wordlessly, the attorney stepped over to him and rested his hands on Sonny’s shoulders. “Lasagna is in the oven keeping warm. Let’s get you cleaned up.” He then dropped his head and kissed Sonny, long and tender.
“Mmmmpph…” Sonny sighed, relishing in the feel of Rafael’s lips against his. “I gotta admit, this is better than going to my own place alone.”
Rafael smiled. “Come on,” he said, gently tugging Sonny towards the bathroom. “Get undressed.” Sonny started to protest, and the attorney held up a hand. “No funny business. Just trust me.”
“Alright, alright,” he groused, following Barba into the bathroom as he began unbuttoning his shirt. He smiled gratefully when Rafael turned on a hot shower and opened the door with an exaggerated flourish. “Thanks,” he said, kicking off his trousers and leaving them in a puddle on the floor, right next to his discarded shirt. He chuckled to himself as he stepped under the hot spray, listening to his partner muttering to himself about Sonny’s tidiness habits, and hadn’t his mother taught him better?
It wasn’t the best shower Sonny had ever had (a flush crept into his cheeks as he remembered a particularly memorable morning shower he’d shared with Rafael shortly after they began seeing each other), but it definitely ranked in the top five. He washed his silvering hair twice, because he could swear he still felt the blood in the strands after the first one. Once he was fairly sure he was clean, he leaned his head against the wall and just let the water run over him, his exhausted body soaking up the heat.
“Sonny?” Rafael’s voice broke his reverie. “Almost finished?”
“Yeah, I’m comin’.” He turned off the water and grabbed a towel, but stopped short when he stepped out of the shower and found that Rafael had filled the large tub with hot, inviting water. He raised a brow. “You serious?”
“I believe the goal of the night is relaxation,” he replied. “Get in.”
Sonny admitted to himself that arguing was useless against a master attorney, and so he slid down into the hot water. “Oh my God,” he sighed, leaning back against the tub and closing his eyes. “Okay, I give. You were right. This feels amazing.”
Sonny barely noticed the rustling across the room, but a moment later he felt something tap his hand and opened his eyes again. He found Rafael standing there with a glass of Scotch, stark naked. He raised a brow. “I mean, I enjoy the view.”
Rafael smirked. “Slide forward.”
Sonny smiled into his glass as he took a sip and scooted forward. Rafael slid in behind him, and when Sonny leaned back this time it was against a warm, solid chest lightly dusted with dark hair. He exhaled, feeling the stress, strain, and intensity of the day sliding into the hot water. The two sat in silence, Sonny’s head resting back against Rafael’s shoulder, the attorney’s arm around him and tracing lazy circles on his chest.
“Did Liv call you?” Sonny finally asked, taking a sip of scotch with eyes still closed.
“She did,” Rafael said softly, his cheek resting against Sonny’s temple. “Are you okay?”
Don't do this. I'm a cop, just like you. It doesn't have to end like this.
It's too late for that.
“It was too damn close, Rafi,” he said. “If Liv hadn’t…”
Rafael’s arm tightened around him. “You’re safe, and Cole is gone.”
“I can still smell the blood.”
The words were quiet. Rafael kissed his temple gently. “Just close your eyes.”
He sighed almost dreamily when warm water slid over his hair, followed by Rafael’s gentle fingers massaging his scalp. He stayed almost motionless, allowing Rafael to slide his fingers over and over through the strands. Eventually, Sonny again settled back against Rafael, closed his eyes, and exhaled tiredly.
“You know,” he said at length, “this is easier when I’m the one in back. I’m taller than you.” He lifted one leg up out of the water. “My legs are almost too long for this.”
Rafael chuckled. “We could get a longer tub.”
“We?” Sonny raised a brow and turned his head slightly to look up at Rafael.
“Yes, I’ve been doing some thinking.” Rafael shifted slightly and picked up his glass from the side of the tub to take a sip. “Why do we have two apartments?”
Sonny was baffled. “Because… you live here, and I live there?”
“Well, yes, but why?” Barba resumed tracing the slow, calming circles on his chest. “You spend maybe one night a week at your place. We’ve been together over a year.”
“What are you saying, Rafi?”
“I’m saying, Sonny, that logistically…it makes a lot of sense if you really think about it...”
Sonny sat up and turned around to face him. “Rafael Barba,” he said softly, “are you asking me to move in?”
The attorney smirked. “Dominick, you pretty much already have.”
***
Bath finished (and Sonny insisted on fixing his hair, much to Rafael’s amusement) they settled onto the couch and ate in front of the TV while watching a true crime documentary.
“Do you ever think maybe we should explore other interests?”
Sonny looked up from a bowl of ice cream he was eating for dessert and over at Rafael. “What do you mean?”
“You chase criminals all day. I prosecute them in the courtroom. Then we come home and watch programs about them on television.”
“You sayin’ we should start watching something else?” Sonny smirked slightly.
“It’s at least worth exploring.”
Sonny set the bowl on the end table next to his end of the couch and moved over to Rafael. Chuckling, he pinned the protesting attorney to the couch beneath him and kissed him deeply. He smiled against Rafael’s lips when he felt his partner respond. Rafael’s hands trailed up Sonny’s back and under his sweatshirt, and hips arched up to press against the detective’s.
“You think we should maybe start watching nature documentaries or somethin’?” Sonny asked, moving to trail kisses along Rafael’s neck. “Puppies or kittens?”
“Let’s not get too crazy.”
Sonny captured Rafael’s lips again, nipping the lower lip with his teeth and eliciting a gasp from the older man. They continued for a while, the documentary forgotten as they turned their attention to each other.
Finally, Rafael broke the kiss and rested a hand against Sonny’s cheek. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
The detective kissed his partner’s palm. “I’m shaken up, I won’t lie.” He rolled off Rafael and pulled the slighter man into his lap. “The feel of that cold gun against my forehead…I’ll never forget that.” He paused and traced his fingertips along Rafael’s jawline. “All I could think about was you, that I would never see you again.” He paused, studying his partner’s green eyes. “Would you rather I apply for an ADA position?”
Rafael blinked. “I’m sorry, what?”
“I know it’s not easy, knowin’ that I’m out there, in danger all the time. Working for the DA would be safer. I’d be off the streets and in the courtroom.”
“Detective, I would remind you that just a few months ago I was assaulted in an elevator in the courthouse for doing my ‘safer’ job.”
Sonny rolled his eyes. “Well, yeah, but—"
“But nothing, Dominick.” Rafael slid off his lap and perched next to him. “You worked hard to get your law license. You passed the Bar, and you should be proud of yourself for that. It’s not easy.” He smiled. “I’m ridiculously proud of you.”
“Thanks for that,” Sonny said, grinning.
“But you said a few months ago you weren’t ready. That you swore to protect and serve, and you wanted to continue doing that.” He lifted Sonny’s hand to his lips and kissed his knuckles gently. “If that’s changed and you’re ready to move on to an ADA position, then I’ll support you wholeheartedly. But don’t do it for me.”
Sonny sighed. “Rafi—"
“I knew what I was signing up for when I got involved with a police detective,” he said. “Do I worry? Of course. Is it hard? Sometimes.” He leaned closer and kissed Sonny gently. “But is it worth it? Absolutely.”
“I’ll think about it,” Sonny said. “My goal is still to be a DA. That hasn’t changed.”
Rafael shrugged. “And judging by the number of cases that have crossed my desk just within the last week, the office will still be there whenever you decide you’re ready. It’s not going anywhere.”
Sonny grinned and pulled him close for another long, deep kiss. “Now, Counselor, what are the odds I could convince you to dump this TV show, come back to the bedroom, and help me finish relaxing?”
He shivered when Rafael replied by nipping lightly on his neck. “I’d say odds are good, Detective.”