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“All ok in there?” Rafael asked when Olivia had emerged from Noah’s bedroom… for the fifth time in the last hour.
“Yeah,” she said with an exhausted sigh, taking her place next to him by the narrow counter that separated the living room from the small kitchen. “You are a bad influence, you know that?”
He choked on his Scotch, spraying it all over himself and lapsing into a coughing spell. “What the hell did I do?”
“Oh, I dunno…” She patted his back, pushing toward him a box of Kleenex so he could dry the drops on his stained shirt. “How about getting him used to having you read to him at bedtime? Apparently, now I’m not good enough, because…” She attempted to imitate Noah’s tone. “...‘Uncle Rafa can do the voices’.”
“Hey!” he protested, unable to hold back an adoring smile. “You were the one who asked me to read him a story when Rollins called the other day.”
“Well…” She elbowed him, grinning. “You could’ve at least tried to suck at it. What am I going to do now? Have you come over every night?”
“I don’t mind,” Rafael shrugged. “I like reading to him.”
Olivia shook her head, thinking how nice it would be to have him over every evening. She’d never seen Noah like that with anyone, including her. She knew he was fond of Tucker, but ‘Uncle Rafa’ was a whole different story. So different she was starting to wonder…
“Anyway,” she said, giving herself a mental shake. “Congratulations, Counselor. I wish we’d gotten to celebrate sooner, but hey, better late than never.” She raised her glass, clinking it softly against his. It was Scotch for the both of them tonight. “Here’s to Declan Trask trying to ‘hypnotize’ his way out of twenty-five in state prison.”
He chuckled under his breath. “Now that’s a sentencing speech I’d love to hear.” His expression turned serious as he swirled the whiskey inside his glass. “It was a good jury. And I should probably give Carisi a call. He’ll make one hell of a lawyer, one day. Which is a bit of a pity, really, ‘cause the NYPD is going to lose one of its best detectives.”
“Wow.” She tilted her head to one side. “High praise for Carisi. You really are drunk.”
“Funny.” Rafael reached for the bottle, refilling both their glasses.
Olivia looked at him for a long moment. “You know, you always do that.”
“Do what?”
“Give credit to other people whenever someone congratulates you on winning a case?” She waved her glass in a semi-theatrical manner. “It’s always ‘the jury gave the right verdict’ or ‘it was a good jury’ or ‘the SVU did most of the work’.”
“You always do,” he pointed out.
“True. But all of the hard work we do wouldn’t be worth much if you didn’t kick some serious ass in a courtroom.”
He blushed a little, a very rare occurrence. “I’m just doing my job, Liv.”
“See?” She laughed. “Here you go again. You’re good at your job. You’re the boldest, most brilliant and tenacious ADA I’ve ever worked with. So, how about next time someone congratulates you, you just say ‘thank you’ and give yourself credit, for once.”
“Fine.” His mouth curved into a half grin. “Thank you, Liv.”
“There you go. Was that so hard?”
“Hey, you’ve made your point. Don’t milk it.”
“Sorry.” Olivia laughed again. “You’re just too adorable when you’re drunk and flustered.” When he didn’t answer, just staring into his glass, she reached over to touch his arm. “You ok?”
He snapped out of it, shaking his head as if trying to get rid of a gnawing thought. “Yeah. Just tired. Long day.”
“It was,” she said, her dark, perceptive eyes searching his suddenly gloomy face. “Hey. Talk to me. What is it?”
Rafael inhaled deeply, letting the air funnel out through his nose. “There was… something you said today,” he admitted at last. “When you were talking to Abby outside the courtroom.”
“Oh?” Her brow wrinkled. “What’d I say?”
“It’s not…” He sighed again, not quite sure how to say it, or whether or to say it at all, for that matter. “It wasn’t something you said, per se. It was…” He gulped a mouthful of Scotch. “Forget it. I shouldn’t have brought it up. It was probably nothing.”
“Uh-huh. Why don’t you let me be the judge of that. C’mon, Counselor. Out with it.”
He knew her better by now than to hope she was going to let it be. And maybe it was for the best. He’d always believed in ripping the bandaid in one go.
“When you told Abby that she should fight for Steven…” he started. “You said ‘But if he doesn’t get it…’ and then you… looked at me, before adding ‘Maybe he isn’t worth the fight’ .”
Olivia’s chest was suddenly so tight she could barely draw a breath. “I did?” she asked, feigning a casual tone.
“Yeah. I thought…” He cleared his throat. “It felt like… when you said it… it felt like you were talking about me.”
She took a sip from her own glass, trying to come up with the right words. “I… don’t think so?” It wasn’t exactly a lie, but then it wasn’t the whole truth either. “I mean… I guess I was just looking for… moral support?”
“Of course,” Rafael said, his expression a painful mix of relief and sorrow. “Because… you would’ve told me, right? I mean… if there had been something that I’ve missed… if I've... wronged you in any way.”
“Of course I would. And you didn’t miss anything. I promise. We’re good. Drunk. But good.”
That they were. At least the former. The latter was… hopefully getting there.
He nodded, smiling. “Ok then. And… sorry. I been up the entire night prepping. Guess I’m just seeing things. Or… hearing things.”
“Hey.” Olivia stroked his forearm. “Stop it. It’s all good. Another round?”
He hadn’t even realized that both of their glasses were empty again. “Sure. Why not. It’s not like I have to drive.”
“You can sleep on the couch, you know,” she offered for the millionth time over the past few months. “Tomorrow’s Sunday—”
“You mean today,” he corrected her, pointing to his watch that showed a quarter past midnight.
“Fine. Today. I promised Noah we’d make pancakes. You’re welcome to join us.” Dear God, what was she doing? “You do eat breakfast, right? And by ‘breakfast’ I mean other than coffee.”
“I do.” Rafael laughed. “On occasion. And I do like pancakes. And Noah.” She could hear the ‘but’ coming from miles off. “I wish I could, Liv. I’d really love to. But I promised my mother I’d go to the mass with her. Ever since abuelita passed, she’s been… lonely. Raincheck?”
“Of course.” Olivia couldn’t tell if the emotion that washed over her was that of relief of sadness. “Say ‘hi’ for me.”
“I will,” he promised, finishing up his drink and rising on slightly shaky legs. “And now I should probably let you go to sleep.”
She watched him fumbling with his jacket as he was clumsily trying to shrug it on. At long last, she let out a burst of laughter. “C’mere, you drunk fool. Let me.” A little tipsy herself, she smoothed out the wrinkled fabric over his shoulders and latched the buttons. “Here. All done.”
And it was. All done. And yet, Olivia didn’t move away. In fact, she found herself stepping closer, so close she could feel his breath fanning her flushed face. Slowly, her gaze wandered up from where her hand was still holding on to his button, first to his eyes, then his mouth. His sudden closeness was like a warm, enveloping blanket she wanted to snuggle into. He didn’t even move to touch her, but that didn’t stop her from wondering what it would feel like to have his arms around her, his hands snaking into her hair, his lips on her bare skin.
She opened her mouth as if to say something, but Rafael shook his head with a sad smile, taking a step back. “I’ll see you Monday, Liv,” he said in a voice so strained it was barely audible.
“Yeah.” She shook herself out of… whatever the hell that was. “Monday.” She opened the front door, then hesitated. “Rafa?”
“Liv, please…” God, he was almost begging her. “You’re with Tucker.”
She would never know why telling the him that she no longer was was proving to be a harder task than admitting she had been.
“Look. I've been meaning to tell you—”
“You’re happy. Noah’s happy.” His eyes seemed to be glossed over, glistening at the corners. “We’re both drunk.” A smirk crawled onto his lips. “In fact, I’m hoping to God we’re drunk enough not to remember any of this in the morning.”
Somehow, Olivia doubted it very much.
“You’re right,” she muttered. “But I wanted to tell you something. About what you’ve mentioned earlier.”
Rafael frowned a little. “You mean what you said to Abby?”
“Yeah. There was something that you said when Abby left.” She stepped closer. “You said ‘Who knows? Maybe it’ll all work out’. Remember?”
“Vaguely,” he quipped with the trademark smirk in a futile attempt to make as much light of it as he possibly could. “I tend to tune myself out a lot.”
Olivia shook her head at him in doting exasperation. “Well, now you do,” she said, her expression dead serious. “Because, Rafa…” She took another step toward him, then pulled down his head and planted a lingering kiss on his hairline before whispering, “Just so you know: When I said ‘I hope so’... I think there was a part of me that did mean it. If things were different... or... maybe one day...”
"Liv..." he stopped her. "But things aren't different. And it's OK. More than OK. You deserve this. This happiness. This life with the people you love. Please. Don't doubt it."
"I won't," she promised, holding his stare until she was certain he would hear her. Truly hear her. "So long as you never doubt that you're 'worth the fight'."