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With orders from Lieutenant Benson to ask Barba for a warrant at his office, you kept your hands tucked into your coat pockets as you braved New York's winter weather. The tip of your nose was cherry red by the time you made it to his building, and when met with warmth, it felt as if your nose was melting straight off. You pulled your gloves off to hit the button on the elevator, chattering your teeth as your body temperature adjusted.
You were finally starting to regain feeling in your hands as you knocked on his office door slowly, your heart racing at the thought of seeing him. So what if you were well into adulthood and saw this man everyday? Crushes aren't exactly something you can stifle a physical reaction to, even if you were good at being nonchalant about it. The way he carried himself just enamored you--that wasn't a crime.
"Come in!" You heard his voice say, letting yourself into the room. It was already dark outside, so his desk lamp was the only illumination the room could offer. Through the dimness, you saw him look up at you from where he sat, his gaze stalling for a millisecond, before saying, "Y/N, to what do I owe the pleasure?"
A sniffle came from your nose, pulling tight at your coat as you smiled, replying, "Pleasure's always mine, Raf. With phones and electricity being spotty 'cause of the freeze, Liv wanted me to personally ask you to issue a search warrant for our current perp's apartment."
He lined up the stack of papers on his desk neatly before standing and taking a few steps toward you, leaning against his desk. "Wish I could've saved you the trip. Judge Harrison is the only one who made it into work today and he is... backlogged to say the least. It'll probably be hours before I could see him."
You chewed on your lip, a slight feeling of defeat washing over you, before saying, "Well, then... I guess I'll wait."
Barba smiled softly at you, replying, "You know you don't have to. This is my job."
"And what? Leave you alone at night waiting on a warrant I asked for?" You smirked at him, plopping down on the loveseat in his office, "There's no rush on this anyways. They just sat the guy down for questioning. Give me something to do because I really do not want to have to go back out in the cold."
"You walked here?" He crossed his arms with a smile, raising his eyebrows slightly. God, he needed to break eye contact before you just died on the spot.
Shrugging your coat off, you replied, "Well, I hate driving in this city so I never got a car, and... despite being fundamentally opposed to the MTA fare, I'm NYPD so I can't be hopping turnstiles anymore."
This made him laugh, grabbing papers off of his desk and setting them in front of you. "Once we get the warrant signed, I'll drive you back, okay? In the meantime, I guess you can read some of these witness statements. Y'know, highlight any standout comments."
"Okay," You replied, his offer making you blush as you prayed it would blend in with the rest of your already red face.
He sat across from you with his own stack of papers and chuckled, "I wouldn't have pegged you for fare evasion."
You laughed at the remark, keeping your eyes locked on the witness statement you were too distracted to read, saying, "I grew up in East Harlem. From the second I could walk, my mom was teaching me how to jump. You're gonna tell me that you, Mr. Bronx, never hopped turnstiles?"
You looked up long enough to catch him smiling at his papers, legs crossed and body leaned back on the couch all suave-like. It took everything in you to look away. "I plead the fifth."
Before you could reply, there was a faint humming noise in the building before every light flickered out, leaving you two in near total darkness. A laugh erupted from you, marking one behavior in a long line of inappropriate responses you had. "Think it's safe to say the freeze caught up with us."
He was quickly illuminated by the flashlight on his phone as he went to go peer out his office window. He sighed, "Think it's also safe to say you and I are gonna be stuck here for a while. Traffic is at a dead stop out there."
"We could always go hop a turnstile." You replied, standing up to go look out the window from next to him.
"I'm sure that would be a good look for the both of us." Barba smiled lopsidedly, his eyes inadvertently wandering over you from the closeness.
You became keenly aware of how close you two were and said, "You don't tell and I won't."
He pursed his lips together to fight the urge to keep smiling at you, replying, "As tempting as you make that sound, I'm sure the power will be back on in a few minutes. This building has a backup generator."
"Rats." You jokingly complained, sitting in his desk chair and giving it a spin. "What ever shall we do in the meantime?"
"You tell me. Looks like you're the ADA now." He poked fun at where you were sitting, leaning against the desk next to you.
Trying to ignore how this continuous proximity made you feel, you scratched your chin as if you were deep in thought, responding, "We could always have a conversation. Y'know, like they did in our parent's days."
This made him laugh again, "I suppose. What do you want to talk about?"
"Hmm," You leaned back in the chair, squinting your eyes and joking, "Tell me every unresolved issue from your childhood."
"You sure you have that kind of time?" He angled his head down at you and grinned.
Seeing his smile made your cheeks tint pink again, chewing on your cheek as your lips turned up. "For you? Always. Here, I'll go first." You cleared your throat and furrowed your eyebrows, putting on a serious front as you said, "When I was 9, my dad held my cat for ransom."
"Are you making that up?" He asked, a ghost of a smile on his face.
"Do I look like I'm making it up?" You narrowed your eyes at him. "He took a picture of my cat and the daily newspaper. It was crazy, Raf."
You stood up from his desk and made your way over to his loveseat with him following close behind. When the two of you were situated, close enough that one move would have your knees touching, he asked, "What happened after that?"
"I'll tell you if you tell me something about you." You hugged your knees to your chest, something about the lights being out and almost no one in the office making you feel comfortable enough to sit so casually.
He looked at you with a trace of affection in his eyes before saying, "I played baseball when I was a kid. I was horrible though. Threw a ball straight into my dad's eye in the stands and got in the worst trouble of my life."
You smiled and replied, "It always comes back to dads, doesn't it?"
"Yeah, I guess it does." The smile on his face faltered at the thought of his dad, before he changed the mood. "So I gave you an answer. What happened with your cat?"
Subsequently, your own smile fell a little, adding, "Doesn't have a happy ending. You still want to hear?"
Barba tilted his head to get a better look at your face and continued, "I didn't think it did when I asked."
You laid your chin atop your knees and looked between his eyes for a moment. It would only take a second to close the gap between you two, you thought. "I got my cat back, at least. Dear old dad, well, he... he didn't come back. I know now that he was bipolar and manic. He just wanted enough money from my mom so he could run away. It seemed like a good plan to him, I guess. My mom called the police, a couple cops raided the garage he was holding her in, he pulled a gun on them, and... that was that. I cried because I was just happy to have my cat back. It's just... weird having a dead parent you don't mourn that much."
He was silent for a moment, pondering what to say as he examined your dimly lit face. His gaze didn't make you feel small—it made you feel cared about. "My father was horrible too—to me and my mom. He was severely diabetic then he..." He paused, finding the vulnerability difficult. "He fell into a coma. I didn't want him to die and I didn't want him to live so I just left him in limbo. I left him on life support for almost a year even though I knew that he was suffering. When he died, I... I just stopped thinking about him. But the guilt I felt—that didn't go away."
Every bone in your body fought against touching him in support as you gently replied, "For what it's worth, I think sometimes limbo is easier than a hard black and white choice. We're human. We want the easy choice even if it isn't always the right one. You didn't choose to be stuck with the decision, let alone a crappy dad."
He looked down and rubbed his thumb into his palm, replying, "You're an ADA and a therapist. What else can you do?"
"Be an expert in daddy issues, I guess. And be your friend." You said with a smile, leaning your head against the back of the couch.
His eyes met yours and you saw his jaw clench, smiling faintly. For just the one second before he spoke again, you felt exposed in his gaze—like everything about you was put on display for him to admire. It made your heart race, unable to break the contact. Finally, he spoke, "I think you and I would've been friends as kids."
The comment was so gentle, catching you completely off guard. With a soft look in your eyes, you replied, "Why's that? Mutual love for fare evasion?"
"Love is a strong word," He laughed, "And no, not that. Just... think I could've used someone like you."
You smiled, replying, "I was a bad kid. My record is clean but... I have seen the inside of the tank on a few occasions. I think I needed you back then even more. You would've been good for me."
"And now?" He asked, his smile dropping slightly as his expression became more serious. Your eyes widened, wondering what in the world he meant by that. Did you need him now? You chewed your cheek and opened your mouth to reply, cut off by another electrical hum and the lights turning back on. He quickly cleared his throat, standing up, and saying, "Well, guess it's back to business then."
"Raf?" You asked, grabbing his hand to catch his attention again. When your gazes intertwined, you continued, "What did that question mean?"
It was still dim in his office, considering his desk lamp was the only thing he had on, but it was clear on his face that he was nervous—a rare feeling for him. You stood from your spot, inches from him as he slowly said, "Do you think I'm good for you now?"
"Do you think you're not?" You asked, looking between his eyes as your hand still clutched his.
He avoided your gaze and shook his head, replying, "I don't know. I get so caught up in work that I forget what other people think of me personally."
The lights hummed and went black again all of a sudden, leaving you two standing in the middle of his office, holding hands with faces dangerously close. "Do you want to know what I really think of you, Rafael?"
"Do I?" He replied, stealing a glance at your lips as he reveled in the feeling of your cold hand in his.
You smiled, your heart in your throat as you replied, "If you'll let me."
He rapidly glanced between your eyes, searching for something in you that might be fooling him. All he saw in you was adoration as your free hand touched his face, learning the intimate details of it. The delicate touch made every muscle he didn't know was tensed relax as he leaned into you. It felt like a sin to indulge himself, but he didn't fight it—remembering the words you spoke about limbo being the easy choice, not always the right one.
You stood on the tips of your feet, pressing your lips to his softly and carefully tangling your hands in his styled hair. He was still at first, taking in the situation, but only for a second. Both of his hands clasped your face gently, drunk off your touch and desperate for more. It was everything you'd hoped for and then some.
After what must've been thirty seconds, he kept his grasp onto your face but drew back, resting his forehead against yours. You smiled and joked, "That was definitely good for me."
"Yeah?" He laughed softly, fixing your hair neatly behind your ears. "Me too."
You leaned up to kiss him again but were quickly interrupted by a knock at his door. Both of you released each other swiftly, stepping away as you covered your smile with your hand. He coughed, "Come in."
A young paralegal peeked through the door, a flashlight in hand, and said, "Sorry to bother you, sir, but Judge Harrison can see you now if you have anything you need to present."
"Okay, thank you. Tell him I'll be right there then." Barba said, nodding at the paralegal who quickly shut the door behind him. He turned around to face you and said, "When is your shift supposed to end?"
"As soon as I get that warrant back to Liv, I can go home." You were still smiling, arms crossed in front of you.
He grabbed some papers off his desk and asked, "How about dinner instead?"
A laugh escaped your lips as you replied, "I don't think anywhere's open right now." Your finger pointed to the lights overhead that were still not back on, despite the small bout of incandescence.
Barba headed towards his office door and said, "There's a dive bar a block away from your precinct that has stayed open through worse if you don't mind beer and burgers."
"You asking me on a date, Raf?"
He smiled once more before opening the door, replying, "Think it'll be good for us."
"I think so too."
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