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Later, Fin would be hard pressed to remember why they all ended up at Barba’s and Carisi’s place. He for one had been ready to call it a night; it was late, none of them was sober anymore, and they were all due back at the precinct the next morning, what with crime never sleeping, because the city didn’t, either, or something like that.
Somehow, though, the uber Carisi had called turned out to be a mini-van that accommodated all six of them and next thing Fin knew, he was sitting on Barba’s couch – or Carisi’s; theirs, anyway – with a glass of white wine in his hand, because Barba remembered he preferred it to red, and listening to Carisi and Liv lecture Amanda on the merits of mustard over mayonnaise. Out of the corner of his eye, he watched Barba say something in Spanish to Nick, softly, just a quiet murmur, and then Nick giggle into his wine.
Fin knew better than to ask, but it was tempting. Instead, he sipped his wine and let his gaze wander, taking in the pile of DVDs in front of the TV (an appalling collection of mostly straight-to-DVD horror trash that had him briefly imagine Carisi inflicting any of them on Barba; was that the reason there was so much booze in their home?), the yellow legal pad Barba had thrown off the coffee table and onto a sideboard to make room for their glasses and which sported a half-finished game of hangman (The word was ‘ambidextrous’. The x gave it away.) and the colorful felt piranha hand puppet sitting on the kitchen counter with a tie in its mouth. One of Barba’s ties, Fin recognized. Probably, one of Carisi’s nieces had been over recently and forgotten her toy.
“Oh, bunny, by the way,” Carisi was saying just as Fin turned his attention back to the group, pouring himself and Liv another glass of red wine, “who was that guy at the bar earlier?”
Barba sighed and grimaced like Carisi had just asked him how his athlete’s foot was doing, and took a drink from his half-empty glass. He definitely looked like he was stalling or at least contemplating whether to go with “no one” and hope for the best.
Intrigued, Fin watched him, thinking back to the man in question, who had approached their table at Forlini’s hours earlier, put a careful hand on Barba’s shoulder from behind, a light touch, yet, now that Fin thought about it, somehow familiar, and smiled a big, happy smile when Barba had turned his head to look at him.
Back then, Fin hadn’t paid much attention to Barba’s reaction, he couldn’t recall if Barba had looked as disgusted as he did now. The man had seemed pleasant enough, certainly handsome, quite a bit older than Barba, with gray short-cropped hair and sharp cheek bones, a certain Ancient Roman Aristocrat vibe about him. Fin hadn’t listened to their brief conversation, though he had heard the man say “congratulation” once, accompanied by another warm smile and a squeeze to Barba’s shoulder. Shortly after that, the man had left.
“That was Theo,” Barba replied and finished his drink, then quickly busied himself with lifting all the bottles on the coffee table as if checking their contents. “Are we out of riesling?”
“Theo wh…” Carisi started, then froze, literally froze, with his glass in the air, eyes widening comically.
Maybe getting into that uber hadn’t been such a bad idea after all. Fin leaned back against the headrest.
“That was Theo?” Carisi asked incredulously.
“Who’s Theo?” Amanda asked, head tilted and eyes gleaming.
“Awful Theo?” Carisi asked Barba, still in that tone.
“Why’s he awful?” Amanda asked and leaned forward, elbow on her knee. “He seemed nice.” She looked at Liv over her shoulder. “Right?”
Liv nodded.
Barba was still reading labels. “It’s a long story,” he said so fast Fin had to strain to understand the words, then with a relieved grin lifted one of the bottles. “Found it! I thought we had some left. Detective?” And he turned to Fin, bottle raised, ready to pour.
Fin shrugged and held out his empty glass. While Barba re-filled Fin’s glass, Nick said, “Long story is he’s your ex?”
“An ex,” Barba replied without looking at Nick. “Querido, did you stock up the snack drawer?”
“I don’t think you told me about any Theo,” Liv said. “Awful or otherwise.”
“I still can’t believe that was Theo,” Carisi called over his shoulder on his way to the kitchen, where he rummaged through a cupboard and returned with two bags of chips and salted nuts which he dropped onto the coffee table. “He looked so… normal.”
“Why wouldn’t he?” Amanda asked. “What did he do? Why is he awful? Tell us everything!”
Barba cast her an irritated look, sipping his wine. “He’s just someone I once knew, it’s not-”
“You never said what made him awful,” Carisi cut him off, frowning. He had handed the bag of salted nuts to Nick and was picking up his glass again. “I just assumed he was like the others.”
Barba honest to god winced, but quickly ducked his head, hid his face in his glass. “Hm,” he muttered against it, taking a sip. Or maybe it’d been “no”.
“The others?” Amanda asked, not even bothering to mask how much fun she was having.
“It’s not as soap opera as it sounds,” Barba said wryly. “And not as interes-”
“There are,” Liv said, “some unfortunate choices in your dating portfolio, Rafa.” At his look, she smiled at him over the rim of her glass, then took a sip.
“I could say things,” he pointed out, and Fin nodded.
Unfazed, Liv swallowed a mouthful of wine. “Nothing new to anyone present, though.”
“Has he told you about Dr Asshole?” Carisi asked her, before Barba could shoot back a reply. “The therapist?”
Genuinely startled, Liv frowned, “no?”, and looked from Carisi back to Barba, who was topping up his still mostly full glass. He stopped just before Fin was about to make sure he would.
“Tell us!” Amanda exclaimed at the same time Nick asked, “A therapist you went to or dated?” to which Carisi snapped his head to him to say, “Yes!”
Nick furrowed his brows, confused, then said, “oh”.
“Aw jeez, really?” Liv asked Barba.
Even Fin felt compelled to add, “Seems unprofessional to me.”
“Oh no, no, no,” Carisi said, waving his hands. “No, it gets better. Tell them, babe.”
Barba sighed.
“Tell your best friend about the therapist you dated for a year,” Carisi said, but before Barba had a chance, turned to Liv again. “They lived together, right, for a year, and every Tuesday-”
“Thursday,” Barba corrected him.
“Thursday. Every Thursday, at four pm-”
“Three,” Barba said.
“Three pm, this Harvard graduate went to his boyfriend’s practice to lay down on the couch and talk about his week.”
“Did you at least get a discount?” Nick asked. He almost kept a straight face at Barba’s look.
“I can’t believe you had therapy,” Amanda muttered, and Sonny snorted.
“That’s what you took from that?”
Amanda shrugged and lifted her glass for a sip. “Just… didn’t think he was the type.” She didn’t sound the least bit sober anymore, but, Fin figured, none of them were by now.
“I mean, clearly not,” Nick pointed out. “I think if you’re the therapist’s type, you’re supposed to stop going, but…” He lifted his hands, palms up. “What do I know?”
“Does this man still see patients?” Liv asked, sounding half serious. “Cause someone should report him. This could only be more unprofessional if you also had sex in the practi… Oh my god,” she winced. “Rafa!”
Fin hadn’t seen Barba’s reaction, but it must have been a dead give-away. He was also once more busy draining his glass.
“How old were you?” Nick asked, but Barba ignored him or hadn’t heard him.
“It was exciting!” he said helplessly. “C’mon, we’ve all been young. He was older than me, it was… flattering.” He shrugged.
Carisi turned to Amanda and in a very serious, very drunk tone declared, “They were all older than him.”
Fin could see that. As a thing, Fin could see how that might have been a thing for Barba once. He didn’t say anything, though.
“So,” Amanda said, trying to finish an already empty glass without noticing, until Liv took it from her to re-fill it, “that’s one terrible ex and one awful one, but we still don’t know what made him awful.”
“There was that guy,” Liv said, tilting her head as if trying to remember. “You know,” she said to Barba. “The guy.” She snapped her fingers. “C’mon.”
Fin was starting to wonder if Barba was actually the most drunk out of all of them, the way he was just rolling with this.
“Anthony?”
“No,” Liv said dismissively, waving her hand in an impatient gesture. “Anthony was downright… No! We’re not talking about Anthony. The guy, the European… scientist? Was he? The guy who poisoned you by accident!”
“I wasn’t dating him,” Barba said.
“Debatable,” Sonny said and sipped his wine, grabbing a handful of nuts from the bag Nick held.
“What did he poison you with?” Nick asked.
“Migraine medication he was working on,” Barba said. “It’s a bit of a long-”
“Was he your doctor?” Amanda asked. “Cause apparently that’s a thing with you.”
“No.”
“I mean,” Carisi said, “sorta? Yes? He worked at this migraine research lab Raf went to as a student,” he told Amanda.
“They were looking for subjects suffering from severe migraines for a study,” Barba explained. “You’d be put on their list for further studies and they paid, I dunno, some cash. It was a good deal during my first semester or so.”
“Your first semester,” Fin said and everyone turned to him. “Huh.”
Barba blushed. Actually, truly, blushed. Noticeably, too. “He was a bit older,” he admitted.
Amanda tapped Carisi’s knee, needing three tries to hit it, and when he looked at her said, “Funny, you don’t look that old. Was it the ‘stache?” she asked Barba. “When he started with us? The ‘80s DILF ‘stache?”
Nick had just swallowed some wine and started coughing.
“Fuck you,” Carisi said fondly, flipping her off, and she blew him a kiss.
Barba opened his mouth to say something, but Carisi cut him off, leaning back like he was Sherlock Holmes, ready to name the murderer. “Speaking of men Rafael dated at Harvard…” He cast Barba a grin, wraggling his brows. “You wanna tell them or shall I? Have you told Liv?” He turned to Liv. “Has he?”
“What d’you do,” Nick asked, “fuck the dean?”
“Better,” Carisi said, excited. “So much better.”
“I didn’t know at the time,” Barba said in the tone of a man who had uttered those words repeatedly in the past.
“It’d be scary if you had, bunny,” Carisi replied and then, in his Sherlock Holmes voice, declared, “Rafael was Christopher Proctor’s… squeeze?” he tried, watching Barba for approval of his choice of words. “Secret boyfriend? Live-in student,” he decided with a smirk. “At Harvard.”
“That-” Amanda said, frowning, while Liv said, “Wait, that’s-” and Nick talked over them, “That rings a-”
“The Boston Gardener?” Fin stared at Barba.
“I still think that name is stupid,” Barba muttered into his drink.
“You… dated a serial killer?” Nick asked into the following stunned silence. “For real?”
“He wasn’t a killer at the time,” Barba said.
“That we know of,” Carisi pointed out and felt compelled to add, “They fucked in the garden. In THAT garden. In THE garden!”
“It was just a garden, then,” Barba said. “I… hope.”
“Didn’t he teach law?” Amanda asked. “Did you sleep with your professor? I’m shocked!”
“Seriously, Panda,” Carisi frowned, “your priorities are…” He shook his head.
Amanda sipped her wine.
“He was just my tutor,” Barba explained.
Amanda pursed her lips. “Still problematic.”
“Don’t get this wrong,” Nick said, “but why are you not…” He lifted his hand in a helpless gesture.
“Dead?” Barba prompted at the same time Nick finished, “In a tomato grave?”
“He cheated on him!” Carisi exclaimed. “He cheated on a goddamn serial killer and the serial killer threw him out!”
Fin was so glad he had taken that uber.
He re-filled his glass. Liv was laughing, shaking her head and held her glass out to him. Fin obliged and poured her another one, too, then watched Amanda stare at Barba with an expression that didn’t bode well for her showing up to work the next day. Fin wondered if any of them would.
“You cheat?” she asked accusingly.
“One time,” Barba replied almost pleadingly. “And it probably saved my life, so-”
“You were LIVING with him?” Nick suddenly asked.
“I said he was his live-in student,” Carisi pointed out.
“I thought you were joking. You were LIVING with the Boston Gardener? Did you eat his tomatoes?”
“He wasn’t growing them at the time,” Barba said.
“Because there were no graves in the garden, yet,” Sonny helped out. “We think.”
“What did your therapist say to all that?” Nick asked, and Barba sighed.
“I didn’t know Christopher would-”
“And to think you were, what, threatening to ‘say things’ about my exes,” Liv laughed. “Oh my god, Rafa, I love you.” She laughed harder, lifting her glass.
“I love you, too,” Barba smiled tiredly and took a drink.
“Te saludo, amigo,” Nick said, raising his glass as if for a toast. “No one who just met you would ever entertain the thought that you’re this much of a mess. Estoy impresionado.”
Liv had calmed down to swallow her wine, but laughed again at that, coughing a bit.
“I’m still not over the fact that you’re a cheater,” Amanda said. “If you EVER cheat on my man here,” she pointed at Carisi with her thumb, almost falling off her chair in the process, “you’re going in the zucchini grave.”
“Tomatoes,” Barba corrected her.
“Or that.”
“Duly noted.” He nodded.
Fin checked his watch, but he couldn’t see it very well, anymore, and he wasn’t sure it mattered, anyway. “There is one thing, though,” he said, surprising himself when he heard his own voice. He was really drunk. They all needed to go to bed.
The others looked at him.
“How’s Theo more awful than a serial killer and a therapist?” Wait. That came out wrong. “Who dates his patients?”
“I never said he was more awful,” Barba said. “Just… awful.”
“You have no moniker for the others, though,” Carisi said. “I call Dr Asshole Dr Asshole, cause what a fucking asshole, but you just call him David, and you never even talked about Christopher before you found out he was the Boston Gardener.”
“Such a stupid name.”
“But Awful Theo’s always been Awful Theo,” Carisi continued. “He was the first ex you told me about, because he made great, what was it?”
“Pie,” Barba said. “Banana pie. Best in the world.”
“Right,” Carisi nodded. “But everything else… awful?”
“Hm.” Barba thought about it. “He had a nice reading voice, too.”
“He read to you?” Amanda asked, eyes wide.
“Hm. Sunday mornings.”
“That’s… so sweet,” she said.
“Hm. He was pretty thoughtful, too. Remembered all the important birthdays for me. He’d text me on the day, ‘Don’t forget to Happy Birthday your cousin Miguel’s wife’, that kinda thing. Oh, and he knew where to get the best coffee. Never told me, just… He’d show up at the office with the most amazing coffee ever made, like he just had it flown in or something.” Barba smiled. “Like a little secret of his. It was cheesy, but a bit adorable.”
“Sounds truly awful,” Carisi said wryly. “What a dick.”
“Eh,” Barba shrugged. “He just… It wasn’t… There was just something lacking there.” He sipped his wine, obviously ready to leave it at that.
“And what was that?” Carisi asked. “The psychopathy? Bodies in the garden? I get scolded for calling David Dr Asshole, even though he left you tied to… Sorry,” he cut himself off at Barba’s glare, lifting a hand, “private,” he said as an explanation for the others, “but Theo’s forever Awful, because… he was sweet and thoughtful? I always thought he was just a terrible human being and you didn’t want to talk about him. But he read to you on Sundays? That’s super sweet! What the fuck, Raf?”
Barba seemed to weigh his words, studying his wine, then lifted his gaze to look at Carisi, a smile tugging at his lips. “He was… awful,” he said slowly, “in certain areas.” He raised his brows in a pointed look.
“Ooo,” Amanda said, nodding. “Oh no.”
“Shame,” Liv agreed.
“That sucks,” Nick said.
“Yeah, he wouldn’t,” Barba muttered into his glass, grinning at Fin’s snort.
“Oh no!” Amanda repeated. “Those are the worst. Ugh. Yeah, that’s awful. Fuck the serial killer, that’s…” She shook her head.
“Poor bunny,” Carisi said.
“No way to teach him?” Nick asked.
Barba shook his head.
“Shame,” Liv said again.
“In the end, though,” Barba said, “it worked out for the best, didn’t it, cause I got the perfect husband now.” He leaned over, having to steady himself against Carisi’s shoulder, and pecked the corner of his mouth.
Carisi chuckled, running a hand through Barba’s hair. “I mean, I could read to you on Sundays.”
“Please don’t,” Barba said and kissed him again. “We can do other stuff.”
“And that’s our cue to leave, I think,” Liv said, earning a confused look from Amanda.
“Nah, we’re not going to do that now,” Barba said with a gesture encompassing the collection of empty bottles on the coffee table, “are you kidding?”
“Some of us,” Fin said, “should maybe leave and try to go to work tomorrow.”
“Yeah, Amanda, you do it,” Carisi said teasingly and chuckled at the bleary-eyed look he got in response. Wrapping his arm around Amanda’s shoulders, he tugged her against his side. “I think you’re just sleeping on the couch tonight.”
“Cheat,” Amanda mumbled, half-asleep already.
Barba rolled his eyes. “I’m never living that down, am I?” He stood, decidedly unsteady on his feet. “Gonna get her a pillow.”
Fin, Nick and Liv stood, too, none of them in any position to judge Barba swaying and using the wall for support as he walked down the hallway.
“What time is it, anyway?” Nick asked.
“Don’t ask,” Fin said. “I can’t see numbers anymore.”
“Ah.” Nick nodded. “That’s pretty late.”
“I’m calling an uber,” Liv said, grabbing her phone and letting go of a deep breath. “Good thing we don’t do this more often. Noah’s got a play at his kindergarten tomorrow, he’s a pumpkin…” She closed her eyes, shook her head as if to clear it. “Thirty kids singing…”
Fin snorted. “Best cure for a hangover.”
“Wanna come?”
“Someone’s gotta man the fort.”
“Sure. Where’s Rafa? Did he just fall asleep?”
“Probably,” Carisi said. He’d picked up Amanda’s feet to put them up on the couch. She was fast asleep. “I’ll go get that pillow.” Off he wandered, down the hallway.
Nick, Fin and Liv exchanged a look.
“He’s not coming back,” Liv decided. “Let’s just go.”
And they left.
THE END