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Olivia stood in the elevator, catching a glimpse of her reflection in the mirrored doors. She instinctively smoothed her dress and adjusted her grip on the gift bag in her hand. She’d been dubious when Fin suggested upping the Secret Santa limit to $100 but ultimately agreed. A fission of excitement had coursed through her when she unfolded the small strip of paper and saw Rafael Barba’s name.
She hadn’t even been sure he was included and felt inexplicably awkward about asking. Thrilled at the prospect of buying him a gift without inviting speculation, she’d tried to dismiss the significance she felt in that thrill. Wanting to buy your friend a Christmas gift was perfectly normal. A perfectly normal desire to make them happy—to make them smile.
Choosing the right gift, though, had been maddening. She’d scrolled through countless options online, dismissing anything too generic or too personal. Jewellery was out of the question. Colleagues didn’t buy each other jewellery, and it would definitely invite questions.
Then, she stumbled upon a boutique with a display of gold pens. Instantly, she’d thought of Rafael - the way his hands moved when he spoke with his trademark intensity, fingers deftly twiddling a pen as though channelling the fire of his mind. The glint in his eyes when inspiration struck, shifting the course of a trial.
One pen in particular had called to her, even though it was far beyond the Secret Santa budget. She’d lingered for days, debating, before finally giving in. Returning to the boutique, she ordered an engraving and rushed home, trying not to dwell on why this gift felt so momentous.
It was a damn pen. Just a pen. Nothing more.
And yet, as the elevator dinged, the gift bag felt heavier in her hand. The moment seemed charged with unspoken weight, despite her attempts to brush it off.
Stepping out into the rooftop bar, Olivia’s breath caught. The venue was stunning, dressed in tasteful holiday splendour. Velvet tablecloths, flickering candles, holly arrangements, and mistletoe adorned the space, all framed by the twinkling New York skyline. A rare kind of magic hung in the air.
“Who’s idiotic idea was it to hold a Christmas party outside?” a familiar, sardonic voice asked from beside her. “We’re going to freeze our asses off.”
Olivia turned to find Rafael Barba, his expression wry but his eyes warm. “There are heaters everywhere, Rafa,” she scolded lightly. “Don’t be such a Scrooge. Besides, it’s beautiful.”
Barba’s lips twitched into a reluctant smile. “I guess you’re right,” he conceded, glancing around. “It does look pretty great. Beats the NYPD’s usual efforts.”
Olivia’s grin widened as she finally took him in. His usual courtroom armour had been swapped for a sleek black suit with a midnight-blue velvet jacket, paired with a few days of scruff that softened his usually sharp and more formal look. The combination was devastating, and for a moment, she forgot how to speak.
“I…uh…I thought you were going to be late?” she stammered, hoping her flushed cheeks weren’t too obvious.
He shrugged. “Got off early and had brought a suit to the office. Figured the NYPD wouldn’t mind if I skipped going home to shave.”
Before she could think, Olivia’s hand reached up to brush his cheek. “It’s a good look for you,” she murmured, her voice soft. The moment stretched until she realised what she was doing. Dropping her hand, she cleared her throat. “It’s a party, Rafa, we’re here to relax and have a good time.”
Olivia had instinctively dropped her hand to her side to hide the gift but now realised that she would need to leave it on the table pretty quickly if she didn’t want him to see the wrapping.
“I need to visit the lady's room, could you…” She started.
“I’ll get us some drinks and find us somewhere to sit…” he paused and then added, “…I mean if you want me to? I didn’t mean to assume…”
Olivia smiled, already retreating. “Perfect. And try to get one of those pods. I don’t want to hear you complaining about the cold all night!” she teased, throwing a grin over her shoulder.
Minutes later, Olivia slipped into a cosy glass pod, letting out a sigh of relief as she shrugged off her jacket. The space was warmed by hidden heaters, a sanctuary from the chill outside.
“You’re not suggesting it’s cold out there, are you?” Barba asked dryly, sliding a mulled wine across the table to her.
Olivia smirked. “Let’s just say this spot has the best of both worlds.”
Barba’s smile softened, his gaze lingering. The intimacy of the pod felt like a world apart from the bustling party. Olivia couldn’t help but notice how the soft glow of the holiday lights played off his features, making him look almost irresistibly handsome.
Before the moment could deepen, Rollins appeared at the pod’s entrance, grinning. “Boss! Barba! Hiding out already?”
“Heated seats, cosy blankets, and warm booze,” Olivia replied with a laugh. “We’re not going anywhere.”
Rollins raised an eyebrow but said nothing, her smirk suggesting she’d already drawn her conclusions. She nodded back towards Fin and Sonny at the bar. “I’ll tell the boys you’re here…and let them know not to hold their breaths.”
As Rollins made her way back to the bar, Barba looked at Olivia with a little concern. “Do you want to join your squad for a few drinks? Don’t feel like you have to stay and keep me company,” he offered, hesitating. “Or, I could always join you at the bar?”
“Rafa,” Olivia cut him off smoothly, her lips curving into an easy smile, “I’m not giving up our little sanctuary. I see those guys every day, and I’m already hosting them on Christmas Eve. They can fend for themselves.” She paused, her tone shifting slightly. “Speaking of which…you never got back to me about Christmas Eve.”
“I don’t want to intrude,” he admitted. “You, Noah, your squad…I know how much they mean to you and I didn’t want you to feel obligated to include me.”
“Obligated to invite one of my best friends to my home for Christmas?” Olivia’s brow arched, her surprise evident. “You’re right, Rafa, my squad is like family to me and Noah, and you are part of that family. My son adores you. He’s been asking almost every day if you’re coming.” She hesitated a flicker of self-consciousness in her gaze. “Honestly, I thought maybe you had other plans and just didn’t know how to tell me. I get it, Christmas at my place isn’t exactly what you’re used to, so if you have somewhere else you’d rather be, I don’t want you to feel…”
Barba’s warm hand covered hers, silencing her. “Olivia, stop, you know I love spending time in the Benson home. I just…didn’t know…”
“Please come, Rafa,” Olivia murmured, her voice softening. “Noah wants you there…I want you there with us.”
The words hung between them, the simple “us” she uttered suddenly feeling heavier, warmer, more intimate than any invitation between friends should. Olivia seemed to notice it too, her cheeks flushing slightly as she looked away, momentarily awkward.
“Just think about it, okay?” she added quickly, her tone lighter. “And just so you’re sure, we're hoping for a yes.”
Barba smiled, nodding slightly, though his gaze lingered on hers longer than necessary. “So… are you working tomorrow?” he asked, gently shifting the conversation forward.
“I am,” Olivia replied with a small, relieved laugh. “But only until three. Everyone else is off until the 26th, I’m just trying to tackle the mountain of paperwork on my desk.”
Barba smirked. “Ah, paperwork - the glamorous side of our professions that Hollywood somehow never quite captures.”
Olivia laughed, her eyes sparkling. “Right? I’m not sure a show about a detective drowning in paperwork would get many views.”
“True,” Barba conceded, his smile broadening in a way that made her heart skip. His face was undeniably handsome, but when he smiled like that - genuine and unguarded - it became something else entirely.
“Are you working tomorrow?” she asked, hoping to keep the lightness between them.
“No,” he said, his smile softening. “I've actually booked a few days off. It’s been… a lot lately. McCoy almost ordered me to take some time.”
“I wish Dodds would do that to me,” Olivia teased.
“You could just book some time, you know,” Barba retorted, his tone playful. “You don’t have to wait for someone to shove you out the door.”
“Look who’s talking,” she shot back, her eyebrow arched.
“Touché,” he admitted with a chuckle.
Some unexpected drinks arrived at their table and quickly realising their source they raised them in a silent toast to the bar. Across the room, Fin nodded at them with a mock salute, making them both laugh.
“So,” Olivia said, taking a sip of her wine, “if you’re off for a few days why aren’t you in Florida with your mom?”
Barba shrugged. “Spending the holidays with relatives I barely know didn’t sound appealing.”
“But spending Christmas with us didn’t either?” Olivia asked, her tone teasing but carrying a hint of vulnerability.
“Liv…” Barba sighed, looking pained.
“I’m sorry,” she said quickly, her hands raised in surrender. “Consider the subject dropped.”
“No,” he said, shaking his head, his gaze steady as it met hers. “It’s not that. It’s just…” He hesitated, as though choosing his words carefully. “Honestly, there’s nowhere else I’d rather be than with you and Noah, but—”
“If you even think about saying you’d be intruding, I swear I’ll leave this warm haven and brave the cold just to escape your stubbornness!” Olivia interrupted, her tone sharp but her eyes sparkling with challenge.
Barba chuckled, holding up his hands in mock surrender. “Okay, okay!”
“Okay, you’ll watch your words, or okay, you’ll come for Christmas?” she pressed, a mischievous smile tugging at her lips.
“Okay, I’ll come for Christmas,” he relented, shaking his head at her persistence but unable to suppress his own growing smile.
“Don’t sound so thrilled,” Olivia teased, though her widening grin betrayed her delight.
“Liv…” he warned, his tone mock-serious.
“And you’ll stay the next day?” she asked impulsively.
“Liv, no!” he protested, laughing this time.
“We’ve got a pull-out couch,” she insisted, her voice taking on a persuasive lilt. “It’s actually pretty comfortable.”
“I was worried about intruding on Christmas Eve,” Barba pointed out, his voice low, “but Christmas Day? That really is family time.”
“And you are my family,” Olivia replied simply, her eyes locking with his. For the first time, she didn’t bring up Noah. She suddenly needed to make it clear that this wasn’t just about her son.
“Please stay?” she asked again, her voice barely above a whisper.
Barba hesitated, his heart racing at the idea of waking up in her home, sharing quiet moments over coffee with her and Noah. He felt her gaze on him, her quiet hope palpable.
Suddenly, the tension broke as a recruit dressed in a ridiculously festive green Christmas dress bounded over, carrying a bag bursting with gifts. She practically jingled as she walked.
“Lieutenant!” she chirped at Olivia with a grin, then glanced at Barba with an awkward pause. “…And… ADA Barba?” Her hesitation was almost as loud as her bells.
He smiled politely and nodded.
The recruit double-checked her list, then fished out two nicely wrapped parcels, placing them on the table with a flourish. “I hope you both have a wonderful Christmas!” she said with a cheery sincerity that left no doubt she thought they were a couple. With a jingle of her dress, she was off.
Olivia raised a brow at Barba. “So, do we open them now or wait until Christmas morning? I don’t want to break any Secret Santa rules here.”
Barba tilted his head, observing their colleagues, who were gleefully tearing into their gifts like kids on a sugar high. “I say we dive in,” he declared with a grin so boyishly mischievous that Olivia found it utterly contagious.
They tore into their gifts with an enthusiasm that would make elves proud. Olivia ran her fingers over a silky lilac scarf, marvelling at its softness, but her attention quickly shifted to Barba. Her breath caught as she saw his eyes light up like the Christmas tree in Rockefeller Center at the sight of a beautifully engraved gold pen.
But then… his smile faltered.
He hesitated, holding the pen with the care of someone handling a priceless artefact. His gaze flicked to Olivia, his smile returning but noticeably less genuine.
“You don’t like it?” Olivia ventured, her voice tinged with disappointment.
“No!” he said quickly, his smile warming into something more honest. “It’s beautiful - exquisite, even. Whoever picked it has excellent taste.”
But she wasn’t buying it. “You looked… I don’t know… for a second, you looked a little sad.”
Barba sighed, setting the pen down as if it carried the weight of a thousand emotions. “It’s not the pen, Liv. It’s the engraving.”
Her brow furrowed. “What about it?”
He ran his fingers over the delicate script and read aloud. “‘It is the small everyday deeds of ordinary folk that keep the darkness at bay. Small acts of kindness and love.’”
Olivia stared at him, waiting for the punchline. “How on earth is that a bad thing?”
Barba smirked, but there was a hint of self-deprecation in his tone. “Come on, Liv. I’m not exactly known as a ray of sunshine around here. What else could it be but a… suggestion?”
She groaned dramatically. “You’re impossible!”
“I mean,” he continued with a dry chuckle, “people probably think I file my motions with a scowl and argue cases fuelled by pure caffeine and spite.”
“Stop.” Olivia held up a hand. “You’re missing the point. That engraving—it’s not a critique; it’s a reminder. A reminder that even on your grumpiest, most ‘scowly’ days, your heart’s still the thing that sets you apart.”
Barba looked at her, genuinely perplexed.
“And,” she added with a teasing grin, “it’s a quote from The Hobbit. I figured it’d resonate with a kid who read it so many times that he had to replace his copy. Twice.”
His eyes widened. “Wait, you picked this out?”
She nodded, her smile turning softer. “I couldn’t believe my luck when I drew your name. That pen practically screamed your name - elegant, precise, and perfect for someone who argues like his life depends on it. And the quote? That’s just a little something to remind you of what anyone who really knows you already understands: your brain got you started, and you got to where you are on the back of hard work, but it’s your heart that makes you the best ADA - and the best friend - I’ve ever had.”
For a moment, Barba said nothing, staring at the pen like it was the most precious thing he’d ever been given.
“Liv…” His voice was uncharacteristically quiet. He glanced up at her, his eyes warm, almost vulnerable. “I…I don’t even know what to say.”
She smiled, leaning back in her chair. “A simple ‘thank you’ usually works.”
Barba chuckled, still cradling the pen like a treasure. “Thank you,” he said, his voice carrying an unmistakable depth.
“See?” Olivia teased. “Not so hard.”
As the hum of holiday chatter buzzed around them, Barba gave her a look that lingered just a little too long to be strictly platonic - a look that made Olivia’s heart race.
“You want to get out of here?” Olivia suggested suddenly, glancing at Barba with a playful tilt of her head.
Barba looked genuinely taken aback, his green eyes narrowing as he studied her. “You want to leave? Now? Already?”
“We could go for a walk,” she said with a small, teasing smile. “It’s a nice night.”
Barba chuckled, his amusement laced with a touch of scepticism. “A nice night? Liv, it’s freezing out there.”
Olivia shrugged, her grin widening. “It’s a little cold,” she admitted.
Barba arched an eyebrow in return, his voice dripping with mock exasperation. “A little cold? If that’s what you call ‘a little cold,’ I’d hate to experience what you’d call actually cold.”
Olivia’s smile softened, but there was a sparkle of mischief in her eyes. “You have two choices, Barba.”
Barba sighed dramatically, leaning back in his chair as if preparing for the inevitable. “Oh, these days, I know I’m in trouble when you bring out the full ‘Barba.’”
“Well, Barba,” she said pointedly, emphasising his name, “…you can stay here in the warm…alone…or you can come with me for a walk.”
Barba rolled his eyes, letting out an exasperated groan. It wasn’t even a choice, really. He was too comfortable right here, but—
“So?” Olivia prompted, her voice lighter now, playful.
Barba let out a reluctant sigh, his tone just barely tinged with petulance. “Well, obviously, I’m not staying here.”
Olivia’s grin widened, the corners of her lips curving up in triumph. That smile was infectious, and he couldn’t help but feel himself soften in response.
As they stood, Olivia reached for her new scarf, carefully pulling the tag off before wrapping it around her neck. The cashmere was luxurious against her skin, the fabric as soft as she had imagined. The lilac perfectly matched the deeper purple of her dress, and Barba couldn’t help but admire the way it framed her face.
“Beautiful,” Barba murmured, his voice warm as his gaze traced the lines of the scarf.
Olivia smiled, warmth blooming in her chest at his compliment. “It’s lovely. I wish I knew who got it for me.”
Barba nodded, his lips curving into a thoughtful smile. “Clearly someone who knows you well.”
She returned his gaze, the connection between them humming with quiet intensity. “Let’s go,” Olivia said softly, slipping her arm through his as they adjusted to the chilly night air.
As they made their way toward the door, they passed Carisi, who was leaning against the wall talking to some colleagues from a neighbouring precinct, his brows raised in mild surprise.
“Leaving already?” Carisi asked, his tone curious but light.
“I’ll see you tomorrow night at mine,” Olivia reminded him.
“You coming, Barba?” His tone suggested that he already knew the answer.
“I’ll be there,” Barba replied, his expression cool and composed, though there was an undeniable flicker of amusement in his eyes.
“Have a nice night,” Carisi called after them, his voice trailing off as they disappeared into the night.
Barba sighed, shaking his head. “They’ll be gossiping about us leaving together all night.”
Olivia laughed, stopping in her tracks and turning to him. Her smile was brighter now, more genuine, and it made his heart skip a beat. “Somehow, I can’t bring myself to care,” she said, the warmth of her voice melting the last of his scepticism.
Barba’s breath hitched, his chest tightening as he stared at her. Was he reading into things too much? Or was there something in that smile - something life-changing?
“Are you absolutely sure about Christmas?” Barba asked as they strolled along the edge of Central Park, their breath misting in the cold air. “I don’t want you to feel obligated to invite me just because I’ll be alone. Christmas Eve is one thing, but Noah deserves a proper family day, just you and him.”
Olivia shot him a sideways glance, exasperated but smiling. “Rafa, I swear, if you ask me one more time, I’m leaving you out here in the snow. I invited you because we want you there. We, as in both of us. So, can we stop this seemingly unending debate and just focus on enjoying the holidays?”
Barba laughed softly, tilting his head in that way he did when he knew he was beaten.
From a nearby bar, the strains of Last Christmas drifted out into the night.
“Last Christmas, I gave you my heart…” Olivia murmured, half to herself, “…but the very next day, you gave it away…”
Barba arched an eyebrow. “You’re singing now? This I have to hear. Go on.”
She rolled her eyes, but there was a smile tugging at her lips. “I never used to understand this song,” she admitted.
He angled this head toward her slightly, the corner of his mouth quirking up. “Do tell.”
“Well,” she began, her voice thoughtful, “when he gave someone his heart, surely he was at least pretending that it would all work out? The the guy or girl was 'the one'. But now - just one year later - he’s all, ‘this year, I’m giving it to someone special,’ like now he’s figured it all out. I always believed that he was heading for more heartbreak, and…” she laughed softly, “…I guess that was relatable. I've made some pretty dire choices in the past.”
Barba chuckled, his breath a warm puff in the chill air. “That's a pretty grim angle for a Christmas classic.”
“Grim is kind of a Christmas tradition,” Olivia countered, grinning now. “Have you ever heard the British song Fairytale of New York?”
“There’s a British Christmas song called Fairytale of New York?” he asked, his brow furrowed in confusion.
She nodded. “They introduced me to it on a training course at Scotland Yard a few years ago. Turns out, the ‘New York fairy tale’ is a couple who can’t stand each other. Great song, depressing theme.”
Barba laughed dryly. “That tracks. British Christmas, stiff upper lip and all. Maybe they need a little sadness to keep them from getting too cheerful. Seems very on-brand.”
Olivia tightened her arm around his, grinning. “We’re no better, Rafa. I’ll Be Home for Christmas, Blue Christmas…oh, and let’s not forget the one where the kid’s trying to buy shoes for his dying mom.”
Barba threw back his head and laughed, a rich sound that made her stomach flip. “Okay, fair point well made. I guess we’re hopeless too.”
Her cell buzzed, and she sighed as she withdrew her arm to dig it out of her pocket. “Benson,” she answered, her tone brisk but warm. “Oh no, no, I understand…really, it’s fine. Don’t apologise…yes…Lucy, you too. Give my love to your family - especially your grandmother.”
She hung up with a sigh. Barba raised a questioning brow, his hands tucked deep in his coat pockets.
“Lucy’s grandmother had a fall,” Olivia explained. “She’s fine, just a few bumps and bruises, but her family decided to head down early to see her. Lucy was supposed to take Noah for a few hours tomorrow, but now…”
Barba interrupted smoothly. “So, I’ll take him. Problem solved.”
“Rafa…” she began, but he cut her off with a mock-serious glare.
“Liv, I’m not arguing with you. I’ve got no plans, and I’d like to hang out with my little amigo. You can message me when you’re done, and I’ll bring him to you or we can meet you somewhere.”
She hesitated, the protest already fading from her lips. “You’re really sure? You know it’ll make his day.”
Barba smiled, an affectionate softness warming his face. “I’m sure. And hey, I need to earn a few of those ‘you’re family’ points you keep throwing my way.”
She laughed, slipping her arm back into his as they resumed walking. “You’ve already earned them, trust me.”
For a few moments, they walked in comfortable silence. Then, with a theatrical shiver, Barba turned to her. “Liv, I’ve loved this Christmas stroll, really, but can we please go inside before I turn into a human popsicle?”
She laughed, her breath fogging in the frosty air. “Fine, we’ll go back to mine, it’s closer…I might even make you some cocoa.”
“That sounds like a deal,” he agreed, grinning as they headed toward her place, the air between them buzzing with unspoken promises.
Olivia’s neighbour made a hasty exit as soon as they arrived back at her apartment, it was almost as though she could feel the tension crackling in the air and wanted to give them some space.
After checking on Noah, Olivia found Barba in the kitchen, leaning casually against the counter, though there was nothing casual about the way his eyes followed her. The silence between them stretched, thick and loaded, pulling taut like a string waiting to snap.
She busied herself with making their cocoa but her mind wasn’t on the task. It was on him. Did he feel it too - this charged, magnetic pull between them? The chemistry between them felt familiar yet intoxicating, a glimmer of hope for something new and thrilling, but also safe in a way she hadn’t thought possible.
She knew he wanted her; she wasn’t blind. But was it the same for him? Was it as real, as all-consuming?
“Liv?” His voice broke through her thoughts, soft but firm.
She blinked, startled, and offered him a small smile. “Sorry, I was miles away.”
“You were,” he said, stepping closer, his eyes searching hers. There was something raw in his gaze, something unguarded that sent her pulse skittering. “Is this all in my head?” His voice was low, almost breathless, and he was so close now she could feel the warmth radiating from him.
Her breath hitched. “Rafa…” His name was all she could manage.
“Livia…” His tone was half a question, half a tease, the sound of it sending a shiver down her spine.
She stepped closer, drawn by his scent, his presence, everything about him. “Was this inevitable?” she asked softly.
His brow furrowed slightly, as though turning the word over in his head. “Inevitable?”
“I mean…” She let out a shaky laugh, her words tumbling out in a rush. “I find you attractive, of course I do. But it’s more than that. The safety I feel with you, the trust we have, our friendship… You’re so -” She broke off, flustered, and ran a hand through her hair. “You’re so sexy I can barely think straight, but this…this is the first time -”
“The first time?” he echoed, his voice quiet, as though he didn’t trust himself to speak louder.
“The first time I’ve felt this way,” she admitted, her voice trembling. “This overwhelming attraction to someone, but also completely safe. Like… like maybe for the first time, I actually do understand that song.”
Barba stared at her, stunned. But then his lips curved into the smallest, most disarming smile. “My heart is already yours, Olivia Benson,” he said, his voice rough with emotion. His eyes flicked down to her lips, and her breath caught.
Olivia’s heart hammered as her whole body seemed to ignite. She could think of nothing - no one - but him. “Are you trying to drive me insane, or are you actually going to kiss me?” she demanded, her voice shaking, her frustration sounded almost like anger and betrayed just how much she wanted him.
Barba’s laugh was low and rich, his eyes never leaving hers. Slowly, he leaned back against the kitchen cabinets and drew her closer, one hand brushing her waist. “Patience, Detective,” he murmured. Then, as though savouring the moment, he tilted his head and let his lips graze hers, soft at first, tentative, as though testing the waters.
Her breath mingled with his, and her whole world narrowed to this moment, to him.
“I love you,” he whispered against her lips, his voice cracking slightly, “…I love you more than I can even begin to put into words. You, you and Noah, you mean everything to me.”
Tears pricked at her eyes, spilling over as she leaned in, her lips capturing his in a kiss that was anything but tentative. Every nerve ending in her body seemed to spark to life, her mind drowning in the realisation of how right this felt, how much she wanted this - wanted him.
In that moment, nothing else mattered. It was just them, standing in her kitchen, lost in the promise of something so much bigger than either of them had allowed themselves to hope for.
The kiss deepened, slow and unhurried, as though they were discovering something sacred between them. Olivia’s hands slid up to his shoulders, her fingers curling into the fabric of his soft velvet jacket, as though anchoring herself to this moment. His hands, warm and steady, rested at her waist before tracing up her back, pulling her just that much closer.
When they finally broke apart, her forehead resting lightly against his, they both laughed softly, breathlessly, as if they couldn’t quite believe this was happening.
“Our cocoa’s getting cold,” Olivia murmured, her lips still brushing his.
Barba chuckled, his breath hot against her skin. “I don’t care about cocoa right now.”
“Good,” she whispered, her voice low and teasing, “because neither do I.”
She slipped her hand into his, leading him to the sofa without another word. The lights from the Christmas tree twinkled softly, casting the room in a warm, golden glow. They sank onto the cushions, side by side but unable to keep their hands to themselves.
Barba cupped her face with both hands, his thumb brushing her cheek as he kissed her again, this time deeper, hungrier. She responded instantly, her fingers threading into his hair, tugging just enough to make him groan softly against her lips.
The heat between them was undeniable now, but it was laced with tenderness and a sense of wonder that they were crossing this new threshold together.
His lips trailed down her jaw, grazing the soft skin of her neck, and she gasped, her hand clutching the front of his shirt. “Rafa…” Her voice was breathy, almost a plea, but her eyes held his, filled with trust and a spark of something she hadn’t felt in years.
“Tell me if I’m going too fast,” he murmured, his lips hovering near her ear.
“You’re not,” she replied without hesitation, leaning into him. “I’ve wanted this for longer than I’m ready to admit.”
He smiled at that, his hand moving to the small of her back, holding her as though she might disappear. “So have I.”
“I need…” words weren’t necessary as she pushed his suit jacket off his broad shoulder and down his muscular arms. Neither noticed as it fell to the floor.
They shifted slightly, leaning into each other on the sofa. Her leg brushed against him, and the simple contact sent a jolt through them both. She couldn’t stop her hands from exploring - tracing his shoulders, his chest, and feeling his solid warmth beneath her fingertips.
His hands mirrored hers, skimming her back, her arms, before settling at her waist again. “Liv…” he whispered, his voice rough with emotion and need.
“Yes?” she answered, her tone playful but unsteady, her lips finding his once more.
“Are you sure this isn’t a dream?”
She laughed softly against his mouth, threading her fingers through his hair again and tugging him closer. “If it is, I’m going to be furious when my alarm wakes me up...although I know this is real, I couldn't imagine something that feels this good.”
They lost themselves in each other, the outside world fading entirely. The cocoa, long forgotten, sat cold on the counter as the glow of the Christmas lights wrapped them in a cocoon of warmth and possibility.
For the first time in longer than she could remember, Olivia felt not just safe, but cherished, and for once, she allowed herself to believe in the kind of happiness that didn’t come with conditions or compromises.
Olivia darted around the apartment the next morning, equal parts flustered and thrilled. She’d barely made it to bed before 2 a.m. the night before after reluctantly peeling herself away from Barba. Their parting at her door had turned into ten minutes of whispered goodbyes, passionate kisses, and a final, smouldering look as he sauntered to the elevator. His legs had wobbled just enough to make her smirk.
Her pulse quickened as she thought of him - his lips, his hands, the way he looked at her like she was both his salvation and his undoing. She was giddy, nervous, and undeniably distracted. She glanced at her phone. Less than five minutes before he arrived. Less than five minutes before she saw him again...
“Noah!” she called, sticking her head into his room. “Uncle Rafa will be here in ten minutes. Brush your teeth, pack a day bag with anything you might need, and don’t forget your inhaler.”
“Okay!” Noah chirped but then paused, squinting at her. “Mom, why are you so happy? And why are you talking so fast?”
“No reason!” she replied, a little too enthusiastically. “I just, uh…it’s Christmas, you know I love Christmas. Listen, I’ve got to run next door to Chloe’s. She left her scarf here last night.”
Noah frowned. “We didn’t even go out last night, why did Chloe bring her scarf?”
“Exactly! But…I guess she did…and well, I better go or I’ll be late!”
She kissed his head and darted out, feeling Noah’s suspicious gaze following her, but thankfully he let it drop, too excited about spending the day with his favourite "uncle."
The elevator dinged just as she stepped into the hallway, and there he was. Barba emerged, looking insanely good in jeans, a thick jacket, and a soft blue scarf. Her pulse kicked up several notches as their eyes met.
Before he could even say “good morning,” she pressed him against the wall, her lips crashing into his. He let out a surprised laugh, muffled by her kiss, before responding with equal fervour.
“Well, hello to you too,” he murmured when they briefly broke apart, his voice deliciously husky.
“Morning,” she grinned, zipping his jacket open and slipping her hands inside, her fingertips skimming up his warm back. “I wanted to say good morning before you came in.” Her voice was low, teasing.
“I’m very glad you did,” he murmured, his eyes darkening as he claimed her lips again.
“I can’t get enough of how you taste,” Olivia whispered, her mouth tracing a line along his jaw, lingering at the spot just above his scarf.
“Liv…” His protest was weak, his breath hitching as she nipped lightly at his skin. “Noah…”
She sighed but smiled, pressing a chaste kiss to his lips before stepping back - barely. “You look good,” she said, her gaze raking over him. “I find Casual Rafa…dangerously enticing.”
“Yeah?” he asked, his lips curving into a smile that was both bashful and smug.
“Oh, don’t get me wrong,” she teased. “You’re irresistible in anything, but there’s something exotic about this look…” She slid a hand around to his backside and gave it a playful squeeze. “It’s working for me.”
Barba chuckled, a flush creeping up his neck. “I’m glad you approve.”
Olivia picked up his overnight bag, which had been dropped to the floor almost as soon as her lips met his. Her eyes sparkled with mischief. “So, do we get to keep you today?”
“I thought I’d save myself the trip home. I need to be back here by seven anyway,” he said, his tone light. “But if I’m in the way…”
“Oh, you’re definitely staying,” she said, guiding him toward her door. “You attached to sleeping on the foldout tonight?”
He raised a brow. “What about Noah?”
“If he asks, there’s a foldout in my room. But he won’t. We’re having a sleepover, he won’t care about the logistics, he’ll be focused on Santa,” she said with a wink. “I have a catch on my door, he’ll knock if he needs us.”
His eyes gleamed, his voice dropping an octave. “Sounds perfect.”
“I can’t wait to sleep in your arms,” she whispered. “Just the thought makes me…” She let the sentence hang, her grin turning wicked.
“Uncle Rafa?” Noah’s voice called from inside, breaking the moment. “Are you here?”
Barba stepped back, his expression a mix of amusement and longing. Olivia quickly kissed him again before opening the door to reveal Noah bounding around the corner.
“Uncle Rafa!” Noah exclaimed, launching himself into Barba’s arms.
“Hey, kiddo,” Barba greeted, lifting him into a quick hug. “You ready for our day?”
“Yeah! Mom said you’re staying for Christmas!” Noah’s eyes were wide with excitement.
Barba crouched to his level, nodding seriously. “If you don’t mind having me around?”
“Are you kidding? You’re the best!” Noah declared.
Olivia watched the exchange, her heart swelling as she saw her son light up around Barba.
“I need to head out,” she said, reluctantly slinging her bag over her shoulder, “…I’m already running later than I planned and I want to finish as early as possible."
“Go. We’ve got this,” Barba assured her, reaching for Noah’s hand. “A little shopping, then a matinee of Home Alone at the Roxy.”
“You’re braving the shops on Christmas Eve?” Olivia asked, raising an eyebrow as she backed toward the elevator.
Barba shrugged with a smirk. “What can I say? I like a challenge.”
She rolled her eyes but laughed. “Call me when the movie’s over, okay?”
As the elevator doors slid closed, she caught a final glimpse of Barba crouching to zip Noah’s jacket, his fingers deftly tucking in his gloves. The sight sent a warm ache through her chest, and before she could stop herself, tears pricked at her eyes.
The coffee shop was bustling with holiday cheer, its large windows fogged up from the warmth inside. A garland of lights hung across the counter, and a small Christmas tree sat in the corner, surrounded by wrapped faux presents. Olivia spotted Barba and Noah at a corner booth and smiled. Barba was leaning forward, gesturing animatedly as Noah giggled, his face flushed from the cold outside.
“How are my favourite guys?” Olivia asked as she walked in, brushing snow from her coat. "Glad to see you've survived Christmas Eve shopping."
“Mom!” Noah slid out of the booth and rushed over, grabbing her hand. “Uncle Rafa was just telling me about the time Uncle Sonny got stuck in the revolving doors at the courthouse!”
Olivia shot Barba a look, her eyebrow arching in mock disapproval. “Oh, was he now? Digging up embarrassing stories to impress my kid?”
Barba leaned back in his seat, his lips curving into a slow smile.
She couldn’t suppress a grin as she slid into the booth across from him, pulling Noah in beside her. “What are we having?” she asked, eyeing the half-finished cup of cocoa in front of her son.
“Cocoa, with extra whipped cream,” Noah announced, bouncing on the seat. “Uncle Rafa let me have two marshmallows!”
“Just two?” Olivia teased, giving Barba a mock stern look. “You’re losing your touch.”
Barba chuckled, taking a sip of his coffee. “I’m trying to be the responsible one. It’s an unfamiliar role for me.”
“Uh-huh,” Olivia said, smirking. “Let me guess, he’s already had a cookie?”
“Maybe,” Barba replied, his eyes twinkling with mischief.
Noah giggled. “It was so good!”
Olivia shook her head fondly. “You two are terrible influences on each other.”
“Debatable,” Barba said smoothly. “I think we’re an excellent team.”
Their eyes met for a moment, and something unspoken passed between them. A flicker of warmth, of comfort, of knowing.
“Can we get another cookie for Mom?” Noah piped up, breaking the moment.
“Excellent idea,” Barba said, standing to go and order. “I’ll grab it. Olivia, coffee or can I interest you in finally getting that cocoa?”
She grinned and their eyes locked, memories of the night before sparking between them. “Thanks, that sounds amazing," she said with enthusiasm more closely linked to the reason she missed out on her last cocoa, "extra whipped cream.”
Barba headed to the counter, leaving Olivia and Noah to watch him.
“He’s the best, right?” Noah said suddenly, looking up at his mom with wide eyes.
Olivia’s heart softened as she ruffled his hair. “Yeah, kid. He really is.”
Barba returned a few minutes later, balancing a tray with a cookie and two steaming cups. He slid into the booth beside Olivia, the space suddenly feeling smaller, and warmer.
“Here you go,” he said, setting the cookie in front of her. “Although I think Noah’s plotting to steal it.”
Noah gasped in mock offence. “No, I am not!”
“Uh-huh,” Barba said, his tone sceptical but playful.
They sat like that for a while, sharing sips of coffee and bites of cookies, the conversation flowing easily. Barba and Olivia slipped in bits of subtle banter that made her cheeks warm, while Noah’s laughter filled the space between them.
Eventually, Olivia glanced at her watch. “We should head home. We’ve got a party to set up, remember?”
“Are we doing the mini pizzas?” Noah asked excitedly, already sliding out of the booth.
“Mini pizzas and gingerbread cookies,” Olivia confirmed, pulling on her coat.
Barba stood and adjusted his scarf, then reached out to help Olivia with her coat, his touch lingering just a moment longer than necessary. “Need me to do anything once we’re back?”
She smiled at him. “Just don’t eat all the toppings before they get on the pizzas.”
“No promises,” he said, smirking.
They stepped out into the cold night, Noah skipping ahead along the sidewalk. Olivia and Barba walked side by side, their shoulders brushing as they went.
“Thanks for keeping him entertained today,” she said softly.
Barba glanced at her, his expression warm. “I’d say it was mutual.”
Their eyes met again, and for a moment, it was just them - the snow falling softly, the city lights reflecting in his eyes, the unspoken connection that felt as steady as the ground beneath them.
“Come on!” Noah called back to hurry them along.
They both laughed and quickened their pace, catching up with him.
Later that evening, Olivia’s apartment was alive with the warmth of Christmas cheer. The twinkling lights on the tree illuminated the room, while the scent of cinnamon and pine wrapped around them like a cosy blanket. Her friends lounged by the tree, drinks in hand, their laughter and banter echoing through the space, mingling with the soft strains of holiday music. Noah was still up, and darted between the adults, proudly showing off his Christmas pyjamas, his giggles adding to the festive joy.
Barba stood talking with Fin near the bookshelf, his gaze occasionally flitting to Olivia as she sat laughing with Rollins and Carisi. A glass of mulled wine dangled forgotten in his hand. She caught his eye and quickly averted her gaze, though not before the faintest smile tugged at her lips, sparking a wave of warmth in his chest.
A short while later, she stood to take Noah to bed.
“Hey, Liv,” Rollins called, a sly grin tugging at her lips as she pointed up toward the ceiling. “You’re under the mistletoe.”
Olivia froze mid-sentence, glancing upward. Sure enough, the sprig of mistletoe hung there, mocking her. She groaned and rolled her eyes, turning back to Rollins - who she felt sure had liberated the decoration from the previous night's party. “Seriously? Did you do that? This is like something out of high school.”
“Rules are rules,” Carisi chimed in, his grin widening. “Guess you need a volunteer…”
Before Olivia could protest, Noah’s voice rang out with innocent enthusiasm. “Mom! Uncle Rafa’s right there! He should do it!”
The room went silent and Fin quietly slipped into the seat recently made vacant by his friend, he didn't want to be held responsible for what was going down here.
Every pair of eyes turned toward Barba, who remained as composed as ever, his expression unreadable except for the faintest twitch of amusement at the corner of his mouth.
“Well,” he said, setting his glass down and straightening his sweater with effortless ease. “Far be it from me to break a Christmas tradition.”
“No,” Olivia snapped, holding up a hand. “This isn’t necessary.”
“Oh, it absolutely is,” Rollins shot back, barely hiding her laughter.
Barba stepped toward Olivia, his gaze locked onto hers. His eyes twinkled with mischief, and there was a faint smirk tugging at his lips. “Relax, Liv,” he murmured, his voice low enough that only she could hear. “I’ll behave…mostly.”
She glared at him, though it lacked any real heat. “You’re enjoying this way too much.”
He grinned, stepping closer, the tension between them thickening. “You have no idea.”
The room buzzed with anticipation as he gently cupped her face, his touch both newly familiar and electrifying. His lips brushed against hers in a soft, teasing kiss - brief but lingering just long enough to leave her breathless. The room erupted into cheers and laughter as he stepped back, bowing with mock formality. “Merry Christmas, everyone,” he said, his voice laced with that same wry amusement.
Olivia felt her cheeks flush as she tried to brush off the heat creeping up her neck, but Noah’s voice cut through the noise, utterly oblivious.
“Wait,” he said, looking between them with wide, innocent eyes. “Do you guys kiss all the time, or just for mistletoe?”
Olivia froze, her heart pounding in her chest. She glanced at Barba, who met her gaze with a subtle, knowing shrug - silently letting her know that this was her call.
After a beat, she exhaled, a wry smile tugging at her lips. “Well… we were going to tell you after Christmas, but yes, Uncle Rafa and I kiss all the time.”
The room fell into stunned silence for a second before Rollins burst into laughter, clapping her hands. “Oh my God, I knew it!”
“You guys are the worst at being sneaky,” Carisi chimed in, shaking his head.
Fin leaned back on the couch, smirking. “Took you both long enough.”
Barba raised an eyebrow at Olivia, his expression smug but playful. “See, that wasn’t so awful.”
“Speak for yourself,” she muttered, though her lips twitched with a reluctant smile.
Noah, meanwhile, seemed entirely unbothered. “Cool,” he said, shrugging nonchalantly. “Can I open a present now?”
“No, you can wait until morning!” Olivia shot back, though her laughter softened the sternness in her voice.
The room filled with warm, genuine laughter and as the night carried on, Olivia found herself stealing a quiet moment with Barba by the tree.
“I can’t believe we’re already public knowledge,” she muttered, shaking her head in disbelief.
Barba smirked, slipping an arm around her waist. “Just those three, and I think that was inevitable. And you know we can trust them to keep quiet until we’re ready to disclose.”
She rolled her eyes, leaning into him.
“At least I won’t have to call an Uber to drive me around the block later,” Barba added, pressing a soft kiss to her temple.
“Cheapskate,” she teased, finally letting herself relax into his embrace. As they stood there, Olivia felt her heart swell with warmth. This - Barba, the laughter, the love - this felt like the family that she had always longed for.
Later that evening, Olivia walked back into the kitchen, her heels clicking softly against the tiled floor. She sighed, savouring the quiet that had returned to her home now that her guests had gone. Well, most of them…
Barba stood by the counter, placing the last wine glass back in its cupboard. The soft glow of the Christmas tree lights spilt into the room, casting a warm shimmer over his features. He turned to greet her with a smile that was equal parts boyish and roguish.
“We’re about done for the evening,” he said, his voice smooth as velvet. “With Noah already tucked in bed, might I suggest we follow his example?”
Olivia crossed her arms, tilting her head in mock reproach. “We still have work to do.”
Barba glanced around the kitchen, now spotless and gleaming. He arched a brow. “Work? Like what? Are we doing laundry?”
Her lips curved into a teasing smirk. “If you’re offering, you can stay tomorrow night, too…” She stepped closer, her hand trailing down the front of his sweater, the gesture deliberate and deliciously slow. “It’s Christmas Eve, Rafa,” she murmured, her voice dropping to a playful whisper. “Santa’s due a visit.”
Barba chuckled, a deep, throaty sound that made her pulse quicken. “Of course. How foolish of me.” His smile widened as he caught her meaning. “I suppose we’d better stay up and lend Santa a hand.”
Disappearing briefly into her bedroom, Olivia returned with a large bag of carefully wrapped gifts. She set it down, pulling out box after box and arranging them under the twinkling tree with an artist’s precision.
“Lucky kid,” Barba remarked, eyeing the pile with mock envy.
“There are some fillers,” Olivia admitted with a shrug. “But I might’ve spoiled him just a little.” She picked up a large, neatly wrapped package, holding it up with a knowing glint in her eye. “But this one’s for our special guest.”
Barba laughed and shook his head. “Livia, you’ve already given me a beautiful gift.”
“That was from Santa,” she corrected, walking over to him with a sly grin. Her arms looped around his waist, fingers slipping into the back pockets of his jeans as she tugged him closer. “This one is from me. And Noah.”
Their kiss started slowly, almost tentatively, then deepened as hands roamed and breaths mingled. The world outside disappeared, leaving only the warmth of their bodies pressed together and the taste of peppermint and red wine on their lips.
When they finally pulled apart, Barba’s voice was low and husky. “I love you.”
Olivia’s chest tightened, her eyes glistening. “And I love you.”
He leaned his forehead against hers for a moment, then reluctantly stepped back. “Give me a minute,” he said softly, heading into the bedroom.
When he returned, he was carrying two small, neatly wrapped gifts. His face froze in mock outrage as he found Olivia midway through a plate of cookies.
“Those were for Santa!”
She grinned unapologetically, crumbs dusting her lips. “Someone has to help him out, or he’ll never fit through the AC vent.”
Barba froze mid-step, then he burst out laughing, the sound rich and genuine. “The AC vent? Is that how you explained it to Noah?” His eyes sparkled with amusement as he imagined the elaborate story she must have spun for her son.
“Of course,” she replied breezily, reaching for another cookie. “Chimneys are so passé, Rafa. Santa’s upgraded to central air systems.”
Shaking his head, Barba grabbed a cookie of his own, taking an exaggeratedly large bite as if to match her audacity. “Fair point,” he mumbled around the mouthful, crumbs sprinkling down his sweater.
For a moment, they stood in comfortable silence, illuminated by the soft glow of the tree. Then Barba moved toward it, crouching down to carefully arrange the gifts he’d brought. His hands, usually confident and decisive, now moved with care, as though each package carried more than just presents - it carried intention and love.
He straightened, his gaze lingering on the tree. “There,” he said softly, a hint of pride in his voice. “Perfect.”
Olivia watched him, her smile softening into something more tender. For all his sharp wit and quick tongue, there was a sweetness to him that made her heart ache in the best way. As she popped the last of her cookie into her mouth, she couldn’t help but think that Santa himself couldn’t have delivered a better gift than Rafael Barba.
“Leave the lights on,” Olivia said, adjusting an ornament. “I want them twinkling if Noah wakes up before us.”
Barba nodded, then reached for her hand, his expression hopeful. “Now, can we finally go to bed?”
Olivia intertwined her fingers with his, leading him back to her bedroom. She shut the door softly behind them, turning to face him with a smile that sent his heart racing.
She pivoted, offering her back to him. Barba didn’t need further invitation. He gently brushed her hair aside, his fingers deftly lowering the zipper on her dress. The fabric slipped from her shoulders like a sigh, pooling at her feet. He leaned in, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to the curve of her neck.
“You’re breathtaking,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “How did I get this lucky?”
Olivia turned, her hands sliding up to tug his sweater over his head. “I’m the lucky one,” she said, her voice trembling with sincerity. “For so long, I thought love wasn’t in the cards for me. But now I know the universe was saving the best for last.”
Their kisses became more urgent, a meeting of mouths and souls. Tears shimmered in Barba’s eyes as he realised how deeply he had come to love this woman and the life they were going to build together.
When they finally curled up in bed - Olivia clad in an oversized t-shirt that still couldn’t hide her beauty, and Barba in nothing but his boxers - they fit together perfectly. Her cheek rested on his chest, his arms wrapped securely around her.
“Let’s stay like this forever,” she murmured sleepily, her breath brushing over his skin like a warm caress. Her words carried a quiet conviction, wrapping around his heart and pulling him closer.
Barba’s chest tightened, a mixture of awe and gratitude flooding through him. Even now, her boldness surprised him - a vulnerability so raw, yet offered with unwavering trust. That trust thrilled him, grounding him in the certainty that his feelings were mirrored in her.
He tightened his arms around her, pressing a kiss to the top of her head, where her hair smelled faintly of lavender and something uniquely her. “Always, mi amor,” he whispered, his voice a tender promise. “Always.”
The room fell silent, save for the soft rhythm of their breaths. Barba closed his eyes, savouring the warmth of her body curled against his, her trust, her love.
In that moment, he realised that forever wasn’t just an idea - it was the life they were already building, one moment, one heartbeat at a time.
The first hint of Christmas morning wasn’t the gentle sound of carollers or the distant jingling of sleigh bells - it was Noah’s delighted gasp echoing down the hallway like a miniature fanfare. Moments later, he burst into Olivia’s room, his face aglow with pure wonder.
“Mom! Santa came! The cookies are gone, and there are SO many presents under the tree!” he exclaimed, bouncing on her bed like an over-caffeinated elf.
Olivia blinked awake, a sleepy smile curling her lips as she reached out to smooth his rumpled hair. “Merry Christmas, kiddo,” she murmured, her voice warm with affection.
Before she could swing her legs out of bed, Barba appeared in the doorway. Although he’d clearly been up for a while his hair stuck out at unruly angles, his T-shirt was slightly askew, and his eyes sparkled with the devil-may-care charm of someone who had definitely been eating more of Santa’s cookies. He looked happy and to Olivia he had never looked so good.
“Hold on, buddy,” he said, raising a hand to stop the tiny whirlwind. “How about you and I whip up some pancakes while your mom finishes waking up? Santa’s helpers need their energy too, you know.”
Noah paused, considering. “Can I flip the pancakes?”
Barba leaned forward, a conspiratorial grin spreading across his face. “Not only can you flip them, but I’ll teach you my secret ninja flick.” He shot Olivia a wink that said you owe me.
As the two disappeared into the kitchen, Olivia stretched luxuriously in the quiet aftermath, savouring the rare moment of peace. Soon, the symphony of their pancake escapades drifted through the house - laughter, batter splats, and Barba’s exaggerated instructions.
“Like this?” Noah’s voice rang out, full of concentration.
“Close, but the key is in the wrist. Watch this - bam!” Barba’s dramatic pancake flip was followed by a cheer from Noah.
“You are like a pancake ninja!” Noah declared, awe in his voice.
Barba laughed, his pride palpable. “Years of training, my young apprentice. Years of training.”
After breakfast, the real whirlwind began. Noah dived under the tree with the precision of a treasure hunter, shredding wrapping paper with a level of energy that defied physics.
When he reached Olivia’s big gift, his gasp of joy filled the room. “Mom, this set is AMAZING!” He gazed at the green Lego train with glee.
“I thought you and your Uncle Rafa could build it together,” Olivia said, her tone light and teasing. “He’s pretty good at following directions.”
Barba raised an eyebrow, feigning offence. “Is that a dig or an engineering challenge?”
“Can we, Uncle Rafa? Pleeeease?” Noah pleaded, bouncing on his heels.
Barba gave a solemn nod. “Challenge accepted.”
Noah’s next treasure came from Barba, a brightly coloured backpack covered in patches so cool even an action hero would be jealous.
“This is awesome!” Noah exclaimed, spinning to admire it. “Thanks, Uncle Rafa!”
When Olivia opened her gift from Barba - a delicate gold bracelet dotted with tiny emeralds - her breath caught. The stones winked in the light, like captured fireflies.
“Rafa,” she murmured, her fingers tracing its smooth curve.
Barba shrugged, though his voice betrayed him. “Noah helped me to pick it out. We wanted something that suits you - elegant, strong, and a little understated.”
Her throat tightened as she clasped the bracelet on. “It’s perfect.”
Later, after a feast of Christmas lunch, the trio piled onto the couch, wrapped in a cocoon of warmth and blankets, as The Muppet Christmas Carol lit up the screen.
“This is the BEST Christmas ever,” Noah declared, leaning against Barba.
When the Ghost of Christmas Present broke into song, Barba couldn’t resist.
“‘It’s in the singing of a street corner choir,’” he belted out with gusto, his voice surprisingly good as he gestured with grandiose flair.
Olivia dissolved into laughter, tears streaming as she clutched her sides. “Stop! Oh my God, STOP! My stomach hurts!”
Barba grinned, unrepentant, his hand absently stroking her hair. “Admit it - you love it.”
And she did. Every single second of it. She hadn’t known it was possible to feel so full of joy, so completely at peace, or so entirely in love.
As the movie played on and Noah’s eyes grew heavy, Olivia glanced at them both, her heart swelling. If every Christmas could be this magical, she thought, she already had all she’d ever need.
The End