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“At least this proves that Kristi was telling the truth,” Amanda Rollins said, kicking her feet up on her desk in defeat.
“And Bobby D’s career will crash and burn,” Fin added from his own seat.
Sonny Carisi sighed and glanced at his phone. He had texted their ADA, Rafael Barba, an hour ago with no response. It had been a hell of a day for the attorney, who had suffered a crushing defeat in the courtroom. Though the two had not made their clandestine relationship official, he had seen the tension and stress in the other man’s face earlier in the day. His usual swagger and confidence had been absent, and when the defense had declined to even call a single witness to refute the charges his legs had given way at his desk.
“In the court of public opinion, sure,” he said, still studying the phone in his hand. “But that doesn’t matter in judicial court.”
“Barba did his best—” Amanda began.
“Barba should have never taken it to trial to begin with,” Sonny snapped, frustrated.
“You have something to say, Carisi?” Olivia Benson asked as she entered from her office.
Taking a deep breath, he mentally swore at himself. Benson was already pissed that the video had been leaked, and there was clear tension between her and Rollins. And, not to mention, now he had shoved himself right in the line of fire.
Well, if I’m going down, might as well go with a bang…
“How many times did Barba say he didn’t have enough evidence to prosecute?” he asked. “He said over and over we didn’t have a case, and we pushed until he gave in and took it.”
“Bobby D was guilty, Carisi,” Benson retorted. “Kristi was telling the truth.”
“That doesn’t mean the DA can prove it beyond reasonable doubt,” Sonny shot back, standing.
Olivia’s dark eyes hardened. “If Barba can’t make a case, then it’s up to him to tell me.”
“He’s not going to tell you no.” Sonny planted his hands on his hips. “You’re his best friend. He values your opinion. And if you push, if you make him feel guilty about a victim, he will tell you. And this time it’s got him in hot water with the eighth floor at Hogan Place.”
Something in Benson’s expression changed, a slight hesitation in her eyes. “First of all, since when are you an expert on Barba?”
Careful, Carisi. You’re going to give yourself away.
“Secondly, what do you mean he’s in hot water with the eighth floor?”
Sonny pursed his lips, reluctance in his expression. “I shouldn’t be telling you this,” he hedged. “After court today he was summoned by powers that be. He said it wasn’t going to be good. Beyond a firing squad were the words he used.”
“Carisi—”
“Look, Liv,” he said, “I’m not gettin’ in the middle of the two of you. You’re his friend, and the two of you need to figure it out. Just…” He folded his arms over his chest and looked at the floor. “If I pass the Bar, it’s because of Barba. He is the best damn attorney I have ever worked with. If he says he can’t make the case, maybe we should listen to him. He didn’t get where he is by bein’ an idiot.”
Silence rang through the room like a bell, Carisi and Benson standing defensively across from each other. Eyes wide, Amanda and Fin looked at each other, each silently urging the other to speak up.
Finally, Sonny blew out a breath and once again looked at his phone. “It’s end of shift, and I need to go take care of somethin’,” he said. “I’ll catch you guys tomorrow.” Snatching up his jacket, he stalked to the elevator.
“What crawled up his ass?” Fin finally broke the silence.
Olivia stared thoughtfully at the closed elevator door. “I’m not sure,” she replied. “Carisi has always been outspoken, but…” She sighed. “I suppose I need to go call and apologize to Barba, especially if he was called to the ‘firing squad’ today.”
“Barba’s a big boy,” Tutuola replied, leaning back in his chair. “He can fight his own battles.”
“And apparently Carisi can fight them for him,” Amanda mused.
When Barba didn’t respond to the front desk security at his apartment, Carisi used his badge to gain admittance to the building. It wasn’t exactly ethical to do so, but he could justify it by explaining that he was worried about the ADA. When they had parted that afternoon, Barba had been under stress and upset, and now he wasn’t responding to calls. He repeated this over and over to himself as he approached Rafael’s apartment door. He rang the bell and waited, rolling back to his heels. When there was no answer, he furrowed his brow and tried again.
After a few moments, the door cracked open. “Carisi?” One green eye peeked out, wincing at the light from the hallway. “How did you get in?”
“Badged my way past the front desk,” he said. “You, ah…you didn’t answer my calls and I was gettin’ a little worried.”
“Hang on.” The door closed and Sonny could hear the chain sliding away on the other side. When it opened again, Rafael stepped behind it as he ushered the detective inside.
“You okay?” Sonny asked, concerned. He closed the door behind him, glancing around at the dark apartment. All lights were off, and Rafael stood a bit unsteadily in front of him wearing a rumpled dress shirt and trousers. His jacket and tie had been shed, as had his socks and shoes. “You sure don’t look like you are,” he added, stepping closer to cup Barba’s elbow and steady him.
“I’m not,” he murmured. “And keep your voice down.” He closed his eyes and swallowed. “Migraine.”
“Aww, Rafael,” Sonny murmured, immediately dropping his voice. He stepped even closer and slid his arms gently around the attorney. “I guess that pow-wow on eight didn’t go so well?”
Barba rested his forehead against Sonny’s shoulder and shook his head. “I was written up.”
Sympathy and anger welled up in the detective, his argument with Benson still on his mind. “I’m sorry,” he murmured. He wanted to press his lips to Rafael’s forehead, but resisted. Whatever this was they were doing, they hadn’t defined it or made anything official. He was unsure if that would be too intimate. On the other hand, Rafael was so miserable it twisted his heart. Gently, he rested his hands on the attorney’s hips and stepped away. “Let me take you to bed.”
Rafael opened one eye and squinted up at him. “Do you really think I can—?”
“No, I do not,” Sonny snorted. “My ma gets migraines, too. When she gets hit with one, the best cure is sleepin’ it off in a dark room.”
Sighing, he nodded slightly. “Yes,” he said. “That sounds amazing. I just hadn’t made it that far.”
“Come on.” Carisi slid an arm around Rafael to lead him to his bedroom. He swayed several times along the way, and Carisi held him up. Once in the room, he helped him onto the bed and began unfastening his trousers. “I’m not gettin’ fresh,” he said, keeping his tone quiet. “I just thought you would rest better if you got outta these.”
“Probably,” Barba pressed his fingers to his forehead. “I’m not sure I care at this point.”
Sonny managed to get the pants off and tossed them across a chair in the corner. “Have you taken your medicine?” he asked, assuming if Barba got migraines at least semi-regularly he would have a prescription.
“Bathroom cabinet,” he replied, face half-buried in his pillow. “It’ll probably have to be a shot this time, bad as it is.”
“Stay here. I’ll get it.”
He felt nosy rummaging through Barba’s cabinet. Among the hair products and moisturizers, he located the syringe, checked the dose, and grabbed an alcohol pad. He started to go back into the bedroom but paused to grab a washcloth and wet it with cool water.
Easing down onto the edge of the bed, he touched Rafael’s hand. “You ready?”
“As I’ll ever be,” he replied, and rolled onto his stomach.
Sonny lifted the leg of Barba’s boxers and rubbed a spot clean. “Here we go,” he murmured, stuck the needle into skin, and depressed the plunger. “You know, there really are other things I would rather be sticking in your ass,” he said, conversationally.
Around a hiss, Rafael managed a chuckle. “Next time, let’s go with your idea.”
“Which side hurts?” Sonny asked, gently smoothing Barba’s hair off his forehead.
When he pointed, Sonny laid the cool cloth on his temple, and he sighed with relief. “Thank you,” he mumbled.
“Get some rest,” Carisi murmured as he smoothed his fingertips over Barba’s forehead. “I’ll hang out for a bit in case you need somethin’.”
He stayed for a few minutes, watching Rafael as he drifted off to sleep. A tenderness twisted his heart and he sighed softly to himself. Careful, Carisi, he thought. You’re on the verge of fallin’ over a cliff this time.
It was full dark when Rafael woke some time later. He glanced at the bedside clock and found it was just after eight. Though still shaky, the worst of the pain had faded. He slid out of bed, made a brief stop at the restroom, and then padded down the hall in his boxers and dress shirt to the kitchen to find something to eat.
He was surprised to hear the TV on low halfway down the hall. Curious, he stuck his head in the living room and found Carisi on the sofa, feet kicked up on the coffee table, and an action movie on the screen.
“Hey,” the detective said, looking up and smiling. “I didn’t expect you up for a while.”
Barba flinched at the light from the TV, but dropped next to Sonny. “I didn’t expect you to still be here. You didn’t have to stay.”
Gently, Sonny touched his cheek. “I wanted to make sure you were okay,” he said. “You looked pretty miserable earlier.” His blue eyes studied him appraisingly. “You feel like eatin’ anything?”
“Something light.” He grimaced. “The worst of the pain is gone but I still feel…shaky. And sensitive.”
Sonny nodded and stood, pausing to kiss his cheek. “Gimme a sec. I ordered in some groceries to make just the thing.”
Barba watched him go, an odd mixture of awe and discomfort twisting in his stomach. He could not recall anyone taking care of him like this since he was a small child, and never had he been tended to during the occasional migraine. He wasn’t sure what to make of it, completely accustomed to figuring out his own shot and getting himself in bed.
This would take some getting used to.
He caught sight of his phone lying on the coffee table, and picked it up. In the course of being shot and tucked in, he had completely forgotten about it. He started to scroll through work emails, but remembered the tense and humiliating meeting following court earlier and decided that was best left for tomorrow. He wanted to lick his wounds and recover first. Instead he opened call logs and found he had several from Benson, but no messages. He bit his lip and thought about calling her back on the chance the squad had caught a case and needed him for arraignment. No, he decided. There were several other DA’s available to cover if need be.
Rafael Barba needed a minute.
“Here,” Sonny said, handing him a bowl as he re-entered the room. “This should help.”
“What is it?” he asked, sniffing delicately. It looked suspiciously like oatmeal or grits.
“It’s called pastina.” Carisi sank onto the cushions with his own bowl. “My ma calls it ‘Italian penicillin’. It’s one of the few things she can manage when she’s comin’ off a migraine.”
With a considering look, Rafael took a small bite. “It’s good,” he said. “Thanks, Carisi.” He took another bite, savoring the salty, soothing taste on his tongue. “Do you know if your squad has caught any cases this evening?”
Sonny shook his head. “Not that I’ve heard. Why?”
“Because I have five missed calls from your lieutenant,” he said. “I was thinking of not answering until tomorrow, but wasn’t sure if it was an emergency.”
A flush crept over the younger man’s face. “Ah,” he hedged. “That’s maybe my fault. I, um, kinda got into it with her earlier.” The blush darkened. “Over you.”
Barba’s spoon stopped halfway to his mouth. “Over me?”
Sheepishly, Sonny nodded. “I basically told her you didn’t fall off the turnip truck, and if you say you don’t have enough evidence to prosecute then we should maybe listen to you and not try to guilt trip you into it.”
Raising a brow, Rafael blinked in surprise. “Sonny, you didn’t have to—”
“I know,” he replied. “You can fight your own battles, and normally I wouldn’t get in the middle of you and Benson.” He shrugged. “You were just so upset, and you weren’t answering your phone. I was worried about you, and I guess my emotions got the better of me.”
He bit his lip and looked down at the pastina, oddly touched by Sonny’s protectiveness. “Well,” he murmured. “I really don’t feel up to talking to anyone tonight, so I’ll leave Benson for tomorrow.”
“How bad was the eighth floor?” Sonny asked, quietly.
Groaning, he dropped his head on the back of the sofa. “I was reminded repeatedly I am not a first-year junior ADA but a seasoned attorney with more than twenty years of experience. It was clear we did not have sufficient evidence to prosecute the case.” He glanced over at Sonny. “It was reiterated over and over how embarrassing for the DA’s office it was when the defense didn’t even bother to present a case and still won. And I was told under no uncertain terms that when it comes to indictment, the decision lies with the DA’s office and not with the police department.” He grimaced. “And just to add insult to injury, I was given a nice write-up by HR for failing to follow appropriate procedure.”
“I’m sorry,” Sonny said, his voice soft.
“It’s my own fault,” he replied. “Not yours, or even Olivia’s. The case was shaky from the get-go, and I knew there wasn’t sufficient evidence.” He pressed his fingers to the corners of his aching eyes. “Kristi was telling the truth, even though she was completely not credible. I was the one who let my emotions get the better of me that time.”
“It was a shitty situation from the get,” Carisi sighed. “I’ve never seen a witness like that, filming in the exam room during a rape kit. Such a mess.”
They ate in silence for a few moments, setting the bowls aside when they were finished. “I can go if you want me to,” Sonny said eventually. “I know you’re not feeling well. I can see it in your eyes.”
“Um,” Rafael hesitated, feeling a little shy. “Or…you could stay. We could watch a movie or something.”
He could admit to himself that his heart lightened when Sonny’s eyes lit up with joy. “You sure?”
“Yeah,” he said, picking up the remote. “I think I’d like that.”
They sat side-by-side for several minutes as they scrolled through and settled on a show. When it started, he sensed Sonny hesitate briefly, and then slid an arm around his shoulders. “Come here,” he said, and gently tugged him closer.
Rafael sighed with pleasure as he settled against Carisi’s side, resting his cheek on his shoulder. He closed his eyes blissfully when he felt the quick pressure of the detective’s lips on his temple, even more tension drained out of him. “Snuggling on the couch and watching old Night Court reruns. Does this officially move us from casual hook-ups to something else?”
Sonny was quiet, the hand draped over Rafael’s side moving up to trail through the attorney’s hair. “Rafael, this has never been just casual hook-ups for me,”
The older man took a deep breath to steady his thrumming heart and fluttering stomach. Oh Rafael, you could fall for this one.
Rafael kept the lights off in his office the next day. He thankfully had no court hearings that day and could lie low at his desk in the quiet. While the migraine was essentially gone, he had what he thought of as migraine hangover. Everything was too bright, too loud, and too close. The nerve endings in his head still felt as though they were reacting to the pain that was no longer there. He was still shaky and weak, and honestly probably should have stayed at home resting today. The memory of the verbal beat-down he had taken from his superiors the day before was still fresh in his mind, though, and he felt compelled to prove himself. And so, instead of staying at home and sleeping off what remained, he sat at his desk trying to work his way through briefs in the dim light.
He glanced longingly at the coffee maker across the room and considered making himself a cup. Water would be best for recovery, though, and so it was better to stick with that. Sonny had made him another batch of pastina for lunch and sent it with him that day, and he thought briefly of it in the mini fridge next to his desk. A smile touched his lips and he found himself blushing, still unaccustomed to being tended to when he was under the weather.
Barba glanced up at the knock on his door, sharper than he would have liked. The sound echoed through his aching head, and he flinched. “Come in…”
Olivia Benson stuck her head in, a hesitant smile on her lips. “Got a sec?”
“Sure.” He greeted her with a slight smile.
He dark eyes studied him curiously as she strode in, closing the door behind her. She glanced around at the darkened room and then back to him. “You okay, Rafa? If I’m being honest, you look like hell.”
“Not really,” he said.
She raised a brow. “Hangover?”
“Not the kind you’re thinking,” he replied with a grimace. “I crashed last night with a migraine. I’m dealing with the residuals today.”
“That’s why you didn’t answer my calls,” she said. “I thought you might be–“ Olivia paused, studying him consideringly. “Should you even be here today?” she asked, concern and sympathy in her eyes.
“My migraines are usually stress-induced.” His grin was wry. “This is not the first time I have put in a day’s work in the dark and chugging water and aspirin.”
“I think I owe you an apology,” Benson said after a brief hesitation. “If I pushed you into an indictment you didn’t want to do…”
“At the end of the day, Liv, it was my decision.”
She shot him a level look. “I heard through the grapevine you were hauled up to the eighth floor yesterday.”
“The grapevine? Or Carisi?” he asked with a twitch of his lips. “I was. And I was reminded that it’s the DA’s decision whether or not there is evidence to indict, not the Department’s.” He sighed. “It was not a pleasant conversation. After the humiliation of yesterday’s events in court, it was a lousy day. It left me reeling.”
“I’m sorry,” Olivia said, and then offered a wry grin. “Sometimes I think of you as bulletproof in the courtroom. You pull off wins when no one else can.”
“No one is immune to loss.” He raised a brow at her and picked up a folder from his desk.
Benson eyed him thoughtfully. “What is going on with you and Carisi?”
“What do you mean?” He felt a flush creep up under his collar.
“He got pretty heated yesterday defending you,” she said. “And you didn’t roll your eyes when I mentioned it.”
Keep it together, Barba… “I’ve been helping him study for the Bar.” Which was at least partly the truth. “Drilling him on practice questions. Talking him through essay questions.”
It was Olivia’s turn to raise a brow. “I didn’t think you could stand him.”
“He’s grown on me,” Barba said. “Kind of like a fungus.” Stop being an asshole, Rafael.
A smirk spread over her lips. “Are you getting soft on me?”
“I—” He paused and covered his embarrassment by taking a sip of water. “I’ve been seeing someone,” he confided. “Maybe that just has me in a better mood than usual.”
“Have you?” Her eyes lit up with interest. “Who is she?”
The blush slid up over the top of his collar and into his cheeks. “Not a she but a he, and I am not ready to talk about it just yet.”
“Is it serious?” She rested her arms on the desk and leaned forward.
“I…don’t know.” He stared down into his water bottle. “I think it’s getting that way, and I have no idea what the hell to do with that.”
A smile bloomed on her lips. “Buy you lunch?”
He pressed his lips together, face turning a beet red. “Lunch was packed for me this morning.”
“Oh?” The smile widened, eyes lighting up.
“He called it ‘Italian penicillin’.”
“Italian, huh?” Olivia regarded him speculatively. “Okay,” she finally said. “Keep your secrets.” She stood, then paused. “Rafa, the next time you feel like you can’t prosecute—”
“I’ll tell you.” He smiled. “Promise.”
Benson turned towards the door, but paused halfway. “Rafa? Whoever this guy is…make sure he’s good to you?”
The smile softened affectionately. “He is.” He bit his lip, remembering the feel of Carisi’s arms around him and his tender, soothing touch the night before. “He really is.”