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Chapter Text

It started with an assault. And, while the act remained abhorrent, it was not uncommon. Sexual assault came part and parcel with working SVU.

The victim was Lily Leland, an actress; someone you knew if you followed New York theatre or enjoyed TV side characters with two season arcs. This meant that, being the secret theatre kid he was, Detective Sonny Carisi recognised her from the off. 

As a cop, he made sure to keep his love of the stage close to his chest. He doubted that his colleagues at SVU would be negative about it, but he was still technically the new guy, having only been with them for a short while. And he wasn't an idiot, it might be the 21st century, but policing was still an Old Boys club. Sonny wasn't about to press his luck. So, his playbill collection stayed unshared at home, any extra show tickets went to his mother, and his in-car music shuffled through the safe genre of classic rock. 

From the minute that Lily had entered the bullpen, Sonny had been actively trying not to out himself as a fan. He'd greatly enjoyed her turn as Julie in Carousel a few years ago, possessing an upper register and a stage presence that he still envied. He had actually pinched himself to stop his mouth running away with compliments. He managed to get through the initial interview and the home visit with little issue. There'd been a close call when he’d lingered a little too long among her framed show posters, but overall he called it a success.

It was a case of Stage Dooring gone wrong. Lily had finished her show, briefly greeted fans afterwards, and had then headed home. The perp followed her, pushed his way inside, and assaulted her at gunpoint. Something that, in Sonny's opinion, she seemed to be dealing with rather well. She was poised and professional, easy with a smile, and incredibly cooperative. She seemed almost entirely unaffected.

Then again, she was an actor. 

"I didn't realize how intense these theatre fans could be," Rollins mused, tapping away at her computer as she dug into the perp's online presence. They had yet to be able to find him and were delving into the internet for answers. "D'you know there've been multiple Broadway actors who've gotten followed after shows? This one guy got a restraining order against a woman who kept showing up at his building, broke in eventually, and copied his keys." She shook her head with a disbelieving twitch of her mouth.

"That's nothing," Fin interjected from his desk, seemingly taking forty five minutes to deconstruct and eat one of the mini panettone that Sonny had brought in. He'd picked out the dried fruit, separating the raisins from the orange rind, and was currently munching away solely on the sweet bread portion. Sonny privately chuckled, knowing it was the same way his niece ate hers.

"It's the tech you gotta watch out for. My son-in-law's a big theatre guy; apparently some Spider-man musical had messed up safety equipment and more than one of their Spidey's fell hard, fell quick, and fell far." Fin started to rummage among his piles of candied fruit. "Acting's a dangerous game, Rollins."

Sonny was vibrating with Broadway facts and lore, spinning his pen in his fingers so quickly that it started to blur. He could easily talk about the Turn off the Dark saga for a good hour, and wanted nothing more than to share the wild origin story of Starlight Express. He itched to show his knowledge.

In the end, the wisdom he imparted was a sage: "Insane, yeah." 

And left it at that.

"So it’s going to trial?"

They'd picked up the perp where he'd been hiding away in a cousin's apartment. Mr. Nathaniel Barnes was unassuming and mousey, hardly the kind of man one thought of when imagining a violent rapist. But Sonny, even in his short tenure with SVU, knew that criminals came in all shapes and sizes. While Barnes stewed in the box, Lily sat across from Carisi at his desk, face pinched and hands worrying at her purse.

"He's denying it was non-consensual, but we've got your testimony, security footage from outside the theatre and your building, and he's got priors for minor assaults too." Sonny gave her a soft smile, doing his whole empathy thing. "Our ADA is the best out there and he's on his way right now. I know he will fight for you. We're in your corner, Ms. Leland."

The information seemed to calm her, and Sonny, seeing his opportunity, leant forward a little to drop his voice to a leveled hush.

"And I gotta say, Ms. Leland, it's been an honour to meet you. Your Lois in Kiss Me Kate? Amazing. Absolutely topped every other production of it for me. I'm so glad you got to record a cast album for it. I swear I listen through the whole thing at least once a week."

"Kate? God, it's been ages since I've thought about that. You must be quite the connoisseur if you know my career that far back!" She laughed good-naturedly. "That’s very kind of you to say."

"'S the truth," he responded with a bashful shrug. "What can I say, musicals got their hooks into me early. Don't go telling these guys though-" he jerked his head to indicate his fellows, only somewhat joking. "It's all rock and roll and country with them."

"Your secret's safe with me, Detective." She smiled and tapped the side of her nose. As she was about to speak again, she caught sight of something behind Sonny and her face lit up like the sun.

"No! Is that my little Rafi Osvaldo I see?!" Lily rushed up from her seat and excitedly embraced a very surprised Manhattan ADA. Lily didn't seem to notice the startled reaction. "What are you doing here? I've not heard anything about you in years. Oh, you haven't changed a bit!" She stopped to let out a little gasp. "Did they ask you to come in? You didn't get attacked too, did you? That man, so brazen!"

As Lily sped through questions that were never answered, Sonny watched Rafael Barba's face slowly twist in shocked discomfort, his ears going pink. 

Sonny would be lying if he said he wasn't at least a little bit enamoured with the older man. From a professional standpoint, how could he not be? Barba was a powerhouse; had been since his early days as a lawyer. It was hard for Sonny not to look up to his storied and successful career. And, if he just so happened to be Sonny's exact type of sarcastic, smart, and handsome - well, what else was a man to do? Sonny wasn't going to pretend he was blind to Barba's attractiveness. He also wasn't going to pretend that his... crush on the man went a bit beyond professional admiration. His sisters called it an infatuation. He would rather they take their noses out of his love life. Even if they did happen to be right.

"Barba, you're here. Great, we can start. Ms. Leland, if you could join us." Olivia appeared from her office before any explanations could be given, directing Barba and Lily to follow her.

Left in the bullpen, Carisi and Fin exchanged a bewildered glance as the office door clicked shut.

"What the hell was tha-" 

"Holy shit!" Rollins' exclamation cut Sonny off and made a nearby Uni slip off his chair. 

Sonny rounded Amanda's desk, Fin followed by wheeling over in his own chair. If the man had had more hair, his rising eyebrows would have disappeared.

"No way," he said as he leaned closer to the screen. Rollins' digging into the perp's watch history, the bulk of which was most definitely Lily Leland centered, had borne fruit.

It was a short video, barely five minutes long. The footage was shaky and grainy, and the digital text in the corner confirmed it was a camcorder film from the Noughties. The title was 'Tick, Tick... BOOM! - 30/90, Original Cast'. Sonny was the first to admit that he wasn't a massive RENT fan, but he still knew enough of Jonathan Larson's work to recognize the older show. Although the version he listened to was from a good decade after the original run. When he finally noticed the only other thing he recognized in the video, his legs went a little wobbly and felt that it had most definitely warranted Amanda's outcry.

The man in the video was painfully young, clad in a shirt, slacks, and suspenders. His face was bright and open, energetic and expressive. It was a man clearly used to performing. He was bouncing across the stage, playing the piano, emoting without a second thought, and singing like he was made for it.

And he was Barba. Their Barba. Lauded Manhattan Assistant District Attorney Rafael Barba. 

The video played through and cut to black, the camera operator quickly angling the shot down to their lap in order to applaud and avoid being noticed by lingering ushers, leaving the three viewers in stunned silence. 

In unison, they all turned to look through the blinds of Olivia's office. It looked like they were close to wrapping up whatever conversation they'd been having.

Barba looked the same as he always did. Sharp outfit, sharper gaze. He was perfectly put together, not a trace of the scruffy, bounding young thing from the video. His face was stony in a way that Sonny assumed was to mask the discombobulation from Lily's recognition of him. He tuned back into Fin and Amanda's conversation with a hard blink and a head shake.

"I mean, maybe... maybe it's not him?" Rollins said, trying not to chew at the end of her pen. "Maybe it's some doppelganger thing."

"Lily ran right up to him, Amanda." Fin gave her a knowing look, the no-nonsense one that Sonny was readily getting used to. 

"This thing says this guy is Rafi Osvaldo. It's a YouTube video, Fin, anyone could have watched it."

"Yeah, sure. And what about that?" Fin pointed at the next video in the playlist. Because of course it was a playlist. The next video in line was titled 'Tick, Tick ... BOOM! - Green Green Dress, Lily Leland & Rafi Osvaldo - Original Cast'. As the video started to play, the two familiar people on stage began singing and pawing at each other.

"Kinda hard to explain away that one," Fin said, popping the last of his snack into his mouth.

Rafael Barba was not immune to rash decisions. Yes, he was measured and logical. Yes, he made sure to always be put together, to always have the smoothest, cleverest thing to say. But he was also stubborn, impulsive, and loyal to a fault.

And he was also a fucking idiot.

Usually when someone had a stupid decision from their youth, it was a crappy sex tape or a quick under-the-table deal for some extra cash. Bad decisions for law students didn't often include originating the main role in a somewhat niche musical. 

If asked, Barba would happily admit to being a theatre guy. A theatre kid, even, having spent many afternoons sneaking around his father's rage to go to the theatre club after school. The free childcare had made sure that his Mami encouraged his little hobby.

The role had all but fallen in his lap, really. An older friend from his theatre club days had been on the casting team and had talked him up to the panel. With nothing to lose but an afternoon, Rafael had auditioned. He'd done well, but hadn't gotten it in the end. The loss of some extra money for books and food was a disappointment, but Rafael's friend let him sit in the back rows of the theatre during rehearsal. He split his attention between the stage and the schoolwork he spread out across the seats. 

Barba got to know the crew, the cast, the show, the part. It was all the enjoyment of being part of a production with none of the stress of actually performing. Until the lead's mother died suddenly and he'd had to go back to Albuquerque. In true chaotic theatre tradition, there hadn't been an understudy - it was a three person show, after all - so, at five in the morning while still sleeping on a random Thursday, Rafael got the offer call.

He'd said yes before he'd even opened his eyes, having stumbled to the landline from where he had passed out on the sofa, utilizing one of his textbooks as a pointless blanket.

He then got barely a month's worth of rehearsals in before opening night. His Mami had been so proud that she had come to every performance she possibly could.

Rafael even got to be involved in some of the promotions, performing outside and participating in Broadway and theatre events. He got to meet proper Broadway actors! It was a dream come true, enough to make him skip with glee. But he didn't, because the only reasons that Rafael Barba would skip, would be it becoming the sole legal mode of transport, or if a small child demanded he join them in the activity.

The production had managed to find a career actor to replace Rafael once the show gained more traction and moved to a bigger theatre. He didn't mind, being neck deep in school anyway, the timing actually worked out in the end.

But they did ask him back for the cast recording. Spinning something about how good his chemistry was with Lily, how his tone would fit the recording just right, about how the team wanted to come full circle and use the original original cast for the album.

Rafael, too dazzled by the idea of being on an actual musical album recording, and still riding the high of performing, eagerly agreed before he could think about the future repercussions. Lawyers and judges didn't like fringe-ish mostly-autobiographical contemporary musical theatre, did they? There was no way his sordid past would come to light. Besides, he used a different name; albeit it was just a nickname and his mother’s maiden name, but still. It was the principle of the thing.

So they recorded, and Barba went on his merry way. He thought back on that time of his life rarely, but fondly. 

Seeing Lily had thrown him for a loop. He had yet to even glance at the name on the case file he'd been given. It had only been in his hands for twenty minutes when he’d entered the precinct and was accosted by a hug.

The meeting with Liv had been awkward and stilted. Lily had spent the whole time with a shocked little expression on her face, trying to wrap her head around the version of Rafael in front of her; and Olivia spent the time trying her best not to let her own confusion show. The victim seemingly knowing and being friendly with the prosecuting ADA could throw a wrench into the works.

Thankfully, the rest of the squad was gone by the time Barba managed to extricate himself from the meeting. He didn't think he currently had the mental fortitude to face the Three Stooges of SVU. 

Pressing a thumb to the bridge of his nose, Barba felt a migraine coming on as he left for his office.

Sonny was staying late at the precinct. In search of a change of scenery, he'd moved to a corner of the Crib, gathering up his gangly legs to tuck in close, perching his laptop on his knees as he wolfed down his dinner of leftover take out. He'd wanted to bring the linguine alle vongole that his mother had brought over on the weekend, but Sonny had been banned from bringing seafood to work after the Great Baccalà Incident of the week prior.

Shitty earphones pressed firmly into his ears, Sonny was on yet another rewatch of the playlist Amanda had discovered. He was on his umpteenth cycle through of the list, halfway through his in-depth analysis of every single frame of Sugar. He was also ten minutes deep into a blackhole of overthinking. The costuming had divested of the oxford shirt and a soft-looking blazer had replaced it. The suspenders boasted a pattern that would not look out of place in Barba's current wardrobe. 

The Sugar boot had more dialogue than some of the others, and Sonny was transfixed with every word. He was slowly coming to terms with having the delivery of "Hostess Twinkie Snack Cake" playing on a loop in his brain for the rest of eternity, and the occasional rough growl in Barba's singing voice was currently filing for permanent residency.

There was something about the Barba in the videos, the Barba that Sonny was still trying to wrap his head around, that clashed so jarringly with the Barba he knew. 

"Goofy." Sonny startled himself, not having meant to speak out loud. He usually did at home, chatting away to himself or whatever object was nearest, throwing his hands around in his enthusiasm. Living alone got far too quiet after growing up with the ever-present family he had. In the Crib, he continued in a quiet mutter, far from the exuberant conversations he had with himself at home. "He's being goofy, letting himself have fun and be silly. Where'd that go?" Sure, Carisi had seen Barba joke and snark and be amusing, but he couldn't think of a single time when he’d describe the man as 'goofy'. He frowned.

Sonny slapped the space bar and paused the video. It froze on Barba and Lily hip to hip, pressed together and grinning like mad at each other. Even with the bad quality of the tape, he could see how much they were enjoying themselves. He let the last of the video play, with his gaze fixed all the while on the bright light evident in Barba's eyes. 

Sonny still saw a light like that, when they won a tough case or found a clinching piece of evidence. Eyes bright, lips twisting into a happy little smile.

Video-Barba's smile was like that, only times one thousand. The image etched itself into Carisi's retinas.

Sonny heaved a heavy sigh and closed his laptop with a little more force than necessary. 

Outside the building, huddled up in his coat and wearing his good headphones, he pulled up the original cast album that he'd found and downloaded to his phone earlier in the day. Sonny stared at the offending 'Rafi Osvaldo' as it scrolled along the bottom of the music app's UI. Frowning, he shuffled the album, stuffed his phone and hands into his coat pockets, and sped home.

If, that night in bed, he dreamt of Barba pulling on his hips, of throaty growls next to his ear, of him being danced with and dipped, then that was entirely his business.

A few nights later found Sonny once again surrounded by fuzzy footage from the early 2000s.

It had been like that every night so far during the case. It was pretty simple, with most of the battle being fought in court, so Sonny's brain had time and space to become incredibly well acquainted with the Tick, Tick videos.

After a rather loud and sweary half hour, he'd managed to connect his gaming console to YouTube, thinking the bigger screen might help with the video quality. It did. Barely. He'd appreciate it greatly during the videos that had all three actors on stage, though. Occasionally, on his laptop, the blurriness would conglomerate them all into one mass to the point where Sonny had made a note to phone the optometrist about his prescription.

He'd taken to choosing two videos per night and watching them on repeat through both making and eating dinner. His system had proven a great success.

Sunday brought back a little bit of that silliness that was full throttle in Sugar. But it also showcased how clear Barba's voice was, how level he could get his tone, and how tight his diction was at times. And it wasn't like Sonny wasn't going to laugh at all the Sondheim references. He wasn’t a heathen. Louder than Words only further proved that the Manhattan DA office's gain had been the New York theatre scene's loss. Broadway could use a man with a voice like Rafael Barba's.

Lily's Come to your Senses solidified Sonny's appreciation of the woman's talent, and he found himself agreeing even more with her Tony win a few years back. He was still disappointed that he hadn't been able to afford to see that particular revival production of Bridges of Madison County. The reviews had been glowing.

The orchestrations of Real Life were different with the original cast than in the recording he'd listened to before. He spent quite some time scrubbing back through the video to swim among the harmonies. Sonny's love of harmonies was fed even more with Johnny Can't Decide. All the voices fit so well together, smooth and seamless and full, and he thanked the talents of the casting team. The videographer had a good vantage point and managed to get a decent zoom in on the stage, which meant Sonny got to see the actors' expressions up close.

The doom-filled fear of the future that Johnny was going through was so open and evident in Barba's face. It was such a gentle thing, touching the corners of his mouth in a frown, or wrinkling his brow on a particularly high note. The uncomfortable apprehension was embodied so fully. The night Sonny had watched that particular video, his rice had burnt spectacularly on the stove while he'd been distracted by watching Barba's doe eyes and imagining just what they might look like gazing up at Sonny in a darkly lit bedroom.

Sonny could see how much fun both actors were having during No More. Dancing, hopping, pushing and pulling at each other, dangling from the set, speeding around like little boys on a sugar high. It was like seeing what Barba might have been like as a kid. Less guarded, more willing to seem silly. He was smiling throughout the entire song, the energy joyful and electric. The friendship dynamic was so effortlessly realistic that Sonny could see the two being actual friends off of the stage. But, if Barba hadn't kept in touch with Lily, what was the likelihood that he still talked with the only other member of the cast? As far as Sonny could tell, Barba had scrubbed that part of his life off of his record.

Watching Therapy was like getting a free crash-course in chair choreography. Sonny was transfixed as he watched, over and over, Barba being more expressive with his hands in four minutes than Sonny had ever seen him be since their first meeting. He could see bits and pieces of his-... of the current Barba in the precise way he maneuvered his chair, in the sharp snap of each well-thought-out movement, in the way he set his shoulders. It was fluid and ever-moving. It reminded Sonny of watching Barba in court, of the confidence he carried himself with there. It would be called braggadocio if it hadn't been earned a dozen times over.

Two songs from the show made Sonny cry. Not every time, but it was a close thing. After Amanda had discovered the videos and they'd attached themselves to Carisi like an insistent limpet, he'd done a deep dive into the show. He'd known the vague broad strokes of the history, happy to mumble hum along with songs he didn't know all the words to. The autobiographical aspect of the show was the keystone, but, like with all art, embellishments snuck their way in; truly knowing what was in someone else's heart was impossible. 

The raw desperation in the recording of See Her Smile consistently prickled at Sonny's eyes. Being able to see the open vulnerability in Barba's face in the video version, though? That made the tears break the barrier and salt water always managed to make tracks down his cheeks by the time the video ended. Barba switched effortlessly between chest and mix, the pained confusion of his character sneaking in through emotional vibrato. The gentle twist of Barba's smile, the pinched furrow of his brow, the delicate touches so desperate to cling to love; it all squeezed at Sonny's heart. It all also cemented his opinion that Rafael Barba really needed to make a return to the stage.

Every single line of Why consistently had Sonny sniffling and teary.

Growing up, Sonny didn't know any gay people. Or, more accurately, he'd probably known gay people, he just didn't know they were gay. No one had ever told him. Despite this, he had still been incredibly aware of AIDS. He'd heard all the fear mongering, the hatred, the anger. He still had a vivid memory of Christmas Day when he had been fourteen. It had only been the previous year when he'd come to terms with his sexuality. Bisexuality was spoken of even less, so that had been a rather lengthy and confusing journey. No one but him knew this, of course, because Sonny was the first born son of the first born son: his mother's little Italian prince, his father's golden boy. Good stock Staten Island Roman Catholic boys weren't meant to like other boys.

That one Christmas, the ever expanding Carisi brood had congregated back at Nonna Francesca's just like they did every year. The Carisi matriarch had immigrated to America after marrying in the Old Country, settling down in a tiny apartment with her new husband and her new life.

"Otranto è sempre home, bambino." Had been a common refrain that Sonny had heard from his willowy old Nonno Valentino in heavily accented broken English. "America è buona per money, ma non per l'anima. You see when you go al villaggio, Domenico. Otranto è il paradiso in terra."

A trip back to the family home was still a high priority for Sonny, but life had gotten in the way and he hadn't managed to go before his Nonno passed. It was an eternal regret he would always carry. He kept a sepia-toned picture of the old family homestead, a young and dark-haired Valentino standing with his own parents in front of the small house, on his desk. And a few framed images of the coastal town were dotted throughout the detective's apartment.

His Nonna Francesca, however, Sonny thought might live until the Second Coming. She was sharp as a tack, small and stout, and much stronger than she looked. Francesca had raised five sons and managed to keep their heads screwed on straight, while her Valentino worked endless hours to keep a roof over them all. Sonny was her unofficial-official favourite grandchild. He liked to think that the rumour had something to do with the fact he was one of the few of her nipoti that took an active interest in actually cooking the food instead of just eating it. However, if Sonny was honest, he didn't think she actually had a favourite grandchild. Sixteen was a lot to choose from, after all. 

In the memory that often ran through Sonny's head like an old newsreel, the men had separated from the woman after Christmas Day dinner had been polished off. Someone had a taped soccer game going on the TV, children of varying ages and energy levels flew around every corner, the women of the family gossiped while making coffee, plating out the veritable mountain of homemade cookies and pouring the digestivi. Sonny, even now as a man approaching forty, still wrinkled his nose whenever the fernet-branca was opened. At least the millefiori was a little better. Not that Sonny had ever been allowed to drink it. Being underage was hardly the problem, that meant nothing - he'd been permitted diluted wine since grade school. No, Sonny didn't get any millefiori because it was a "woman's drink", "too sweet", and "not for proper men like you". So, he was stuck drinking the pungent wine that his Nonni made in their garage.

The game had been switched over to the news on a low volume. Sonny had been nursing the Brio he'd swapped for a Coke with a little cousin, feeling increasingly restless despite being surrounded by everything he loved about his big family. In search of distraction, his gaze had found the TV. The scrolling banner at the bottom of the screen was detailing a report on the AIDS virus being named as the leading cause of death for young Americans. Sonny could still recall the hollow feeling he'd gotten in his stomach, imagining himself as nothing to his family but another statistic.

Then Uncle Franco had opened his damn mouth.

"Fuckin' froci," he'd groused, his beer sloshing in its bottle. "Didn't get enough outta fucking eachother over, now they gotta screw everyone else too. A guy at work's got a theory." Franco continued after a sip of beer. All four of his brothers, including Sonny's dad, Domenico Sr., had their attentions half on the news and half on their middle brother. "He swears blind that the shit-packers get it from all the-" he then closed his fist into a tight circle and did a mockingly crude demonstration with his mouth that managed to be overtly lewd, plainly homophobic, and incredibly uncomfortable all at the same time.

Three of the four other brothers had joined Franco in his drunken laughter. Sonny had seen a small idea of a smile cross Domenico Sr.'s face. His father hadn't laughed, but he hadn't called them out either. Sonny would never forget that.

A decade later would see Sonny finally come out to his family. It had been a steep learning curve, but there was peace in the end.

So, yes, the only explicitly-stated-as-"gay" person that he knew growing up was himself, despite being bisexual. And that hadn't even been until highschool. His entire education on the whole 'guys liking guys' thing had mostly come from preconceived notions, historical biases, and family chatter. Television and media were all well and good too, but nothing created by humans is purely objective.

That was why Sonny couldn't help the sorrow that seized him whenever he listened to Why. He still remembered those he'd started post-secondary with that hadn't made it to graduation. He lit a candle for each one of them every December 1st, said a few words, remembered. 

The revival cast album's Jonathan had a nice voice, all the notes emerging clean and clear. But it didn’t suit the song. The guy would do better in Camelot or La Mancha; something classic and logato. The revival voice was too smooth, too perfect. 

He wasn't angry enough, Sonny decided during his lunch a few days out from the trial. Halfway through his sandwich, headphones firmly in place, he finally figured out why the revival just didn't sound right. The song was a love letter to friendship, to music, to love and affection; it was a man pouring himself out onto the keys, a man so lost in his life and his relationships that he can't stop his world from unravelling around him.

The revival Why was a man singing a song, albeit quite well.

The original Why was a man breaking to pieces, desperate to keep a hold onto his sanity as everything seems to be slipping from his grasp. It was unfiltered anguish and grief viewed through the rose-coloured lens of a lifelong passion and connection.

That video got a viewing night all to its own. In a soft zip-up grey hoodie, eyes wide and hair floppy, Rafael Barba looked so very young. He spent the whole song sitting at the electric piano on stage, belting out to the heavens for all to hear. Rattling the rafters, as Sonny's mother would say.

Sonny had been so transfixed by the way Rafael's fingers flitted across the keys that he'd forgone attempting to cook all together, opting instead for take-out from down the street. There was a vein that bulged in Barba's neck when he belted or had to reach a particularly high note. Sonny had carefully catalogued this vein in his mental filing cabinet. He'd nestled it in between 'How Barba eats nuts' and 'That one time Barba wore glasses'. Two very frequented memories. The nuts one was, admittedly, an odd thing to file away, until Sonny was once again met with a man who somehow made snacking look sexy. Carisi didn't know what he would do if he ever came across Rafael Barba enjoying a popsicle.

Sonny, on his millionth re-watch of the video in question, spent every second of the grainy footage with his nose practically pressed to the screen. The lack of choreo meant that Barba only had the piano and his emotions to play with. The quality of the video might have been abysmal, but Sonny could see every thought that passed over the man's face, every lean of his torso as he played, every slam of the keys. The bright, childhood nostalgia the song opened with was met with soft smiles and crinkled eyes. As the tale turned introspective, Barba's face twisted into an angst filled cry, mourning for his friend, unsure of everything in his life but for the fact that he was made for writing, made for music.

He paused the video as it neared the end once more. Rafael's hands were still playing, his face pointed upwards, mouth wide in a throaty belt. Sonny wouldn't have been surprised if he had actually been actively crying on stage. Barba never did anything by halves.

It was possibly the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen. Why the hell did it have to be in 240p?

Unpausing, Sonny let the video run until right before the stage lights went down as the last note ended. He scrubbed back a little to find the frame he knew was there, stopping when it appeared. If he had been better at tech, he'd have already improved the image quality and had the damn thing framed.

A youthful Rafael Barba had his eyes closed. Sonny didn't think much of this, apart from maybe annoyance as he was a big fan of the ADA's eyes. The man's dark hair was falling over his forehead, fingers delicately plunking the last few notes. His mouth was open for the sustained final F. But, it was the smile that made Sonny stare, honestly. 

It was a small thing tugging at the corners of his mouth. It must be hard to belt and manage to smile, Sonny thought. He was a choir boy as a kid, but his own voice never evolved much beyond Sunday hymns. Not that that didn't stop him from going for it hard when he was home alone. The Sonny Carisi One Man Theatre version of Les Misérables was the stuff of legend. A legend only he and his neighbour's cat knew, but that wasn’t the point. Sonny thought he was really starting to capture Madame Thénardier. 

But, yes, the smile. It melted him in a way that made him feel a little too much like a thirteen-year-old with their first crush. The brief urge to print out a screengrab of the still and put it in a little frame on his desk made him close his laptop and go for an hour-long jog. When he'd come back, he had still taken the screenshot, tucking the saved image into a folder on his desktop, but refrained from any framing. 

The trial was well underway by the time every single frame of every single one of the videos had been permanently burned onto the backs of Sonny's eyes. He had absolutely no regrets, only a considerably larger crush on ADA Rafael Barba than he'd gone into the case with. And maybe some hairstyle opinions for him too, because a little length could evidently go a long way.

But Barba hadn't been around since that first interaction with Lily at the precinct. Sonny had missed the banter, the barbs, the... whatever kind of pseudo-flirting thing he felt like they had going on. Barba's jabs were getting fonder by the week, he wasn't even insulting Sonny's long-gone moustache anymore!

It was icy as he made his way up the courthouse steps and he could feel the tips of his ears turning pink. He looked up as he pulled the door open and saw a familiar camel's hair overcoat approaching. Sonny's lips broke into a smile in seconds.

"Counselor!" He raised a hand in greeting, calling out.

Barba spotted him and froze. His eyes ballooned to cartoonish proportions and he turned around as quickly as he'd arrived, speeding off towards where Sonny knew a separate entrance was.

The smile slipped from Sonny's face and he sighed. He stomped his boots on the concrete before entering the court, hoping that the trial was going to be as much of a slam dunk as they'd all been assuming.

"I've barely seen the back of his head since the trial started. I bet he's avoiding us." Amanda leant back in her spot on the bench they were sharing, coffee cup precariously dangling from her fingers. 

The final stretch of Lily Leland's trial found the team looking for places in the halls of the courthouse to perch or pace as they waited for the jury to come back. Olivia had stepped away to take a call. 

Thankfully, like they had all imagined, the case was cut and dry; the trial more of a formality at this point. Lily was calm and well spoken, her voice only wavering here and there with emotion. Barnes, on the other hand, was twitchy and reactive. It was easy for Barba to win over the jury and assembled gallery.

Amanda was right, Sonny thought. Barba had been little more than the flash of silky suit linings in the corners of their eyes since the case first came to them. Where the ADA would usually discuss the case details with the squad around the incident board, he seemed to have holed himself up in his office alone. The longest Sonny had seen him before that morning had been during cross-examination prep, and even then it had been all business. Sonny had tried to make an easy joke and Barba stared at him like he'd personally set all of the man's favourite ties on fire. 

Suffice to say, Rafael Barba was not in a good mood.

Sonny, meanwhile, was only vaguely paying attention to Rollins. He was far more interested in his new fixation on Jonathan Larson's back catalogue. The cast album for Tick, Tick had been the soundtrack to his life since the whole damn case had started. He could recite the thing in his sleep by now. Forwards and backwards. It now very happily sat among the ranks of Sonny's Top Five Favourite Musicals.

Carisi was brought out of his thoughtful daze when a skrewed up paper napkin smacked against his nose.

"Ahi, basta! I'm paying attention to you!" Sonny scratched at his nose. "I'm sure he's just busy. Probably trying to cover all his bases; the defense could try to work on a conflict of interest angle, 'cause he used to know Lily."

Amanda hummed her agreement, tossing the napkin towards the bin beyond Sonny and sinking a three-point basket. 

"Don't remind me. I ain't done being weirded out by that. I'm still not totally convinced it's really him, but I'm hoping. God, I'll have so much more ammunition now! I watched the rest of those videos, y'know," she said. "Wasn't technically necessary but c'mon! It was like when you're a kid and you see your teacher outside of school for the first time. Or a really low-budget Twilight Zone episode." She took a swig of her coffee. "Show was confusing though. Kinda choppy, and did you know there's a whole song about Twinkies? I always thought musical theatre was all tap-dancing and kick lines."

"Well, it's no Music Man, sure. But, if you walk into Raggedy Ann expecting all musicals to be like Bye Bye Birdie, your disappointment is on you." Sonny was speaking before he could stop himself. This whole ordeal had made him bury his theatre loving self even further, and evidently it was in this exact moment that it decided to fight back. His big, fat mouth, working faster than his brain, started to dig his own grave. "Autobiographical works are always going to be a bit different, though. Even if it's only semi and pulled from a bunch of different shows. And you're not getting the whole thing 'cos the boots are only the songs, y'know? That kinda show, you need the full book to understand it. With Larson, everyone always sings RENT's praises - for obvious reasons, it's a well done show - but there's something about his earlier work that just... breathes different. So much more personal, way more raw. I don't want to say 'delicate' but I can't think of another word. 'Raw' maybe..." Sonny scrubbed his hand over his face, tipping his head back to rest against the wall. 

"And then you gotta think about how he never saw it properly staged. Sure, he does some songs at Second Stage and at fests and stuff, but il povero bastardo dies in '96, right, and the full cast production doesn’t make it to even Off -Broadway until 2001. Can you imagine putting all'a your tragedies and insecurities and joys, your soul, into something and then never getting to see it be... loved? He was only fucking thirty-five! Hell, that's like Andrew Lloyd Webber kicking it before Phantom got off, or Gershwin going before American In Paris. And could you imagine if Sondheim had died before Sunday in the Park?! Or, or Company or Into the Woods or... honestly any Sondheim show, really." He was getting worked up, unaware of Amanda's shock and awe as his deluge of musical theatre knowledge and opinions finally broke the dam.

"Larson just wanted to write, y'know? To be able to give his art to someone, anyone, who could appreciate it for what it was. He wanted someone to listen, to hear his pain and his fear and his desire and his passion. Watching the videos, seeing the performances, meeting Lily and hearing her love for the show, I just... I think he got that in the end. People listened and people appreciated and people loved. His show is his life and his life is his legacy. He wanted to make music that people would listen to for years to come, and he did. He just never got to know it. That's what's sad to me, y'know? He never got to see the end of the story." Sonny deflated, losing his steam as he swiveled his head on the wall to look at Amanda. 

It was then when he realised how teary his eyes were, and just what had sprung forth from his mouth.

Amanda was staring at him, slack-jawed, and only spoke after it looked like she had fully blue-screened and rebooted. "Carisi," she said, leaning in towards him conspiratorially, a sly grin overtaking her face. "Do you like musicals?"

Sonny was saved by the chiming of both of their phones. Glancing down, he breathed a sigh of salvation.

"Jury's done deliberating, better get back in there." Sonny lunged away as fast as his long legs could carry him, leaving Rollins to stew in her newfound discovery.

"We the jury find the defendant, Nathaniel Barnes, guilty."

The sigh of relief that hummed through the courtroom was almost palpable. Lily visibly sagged, the strings that had been holding her up over the ordeal finally snapping. Sonny watched as Rafael steadied her, his arms around her shoulders. 

She smiled tiredly, a beam of fatigued delight, and patted Barba on the arm, murmuring something to him before she seemed to convince him of her stability. Sonny headed for the exit once he saw Lily press a kiss to the lawyer's cheek in farewell.

"Detective Carisi!" A hand caught his elbow just as he had started to make his way down the hall. He blinked down to see Lily Leland fixing him with that gentle smile of hers.

"Congratulations, Ms. Leland," he said, meeting her grin with one of his own. "I know everyone who worked this case is glad you got justice."

"I'm so grateful for your help, all of your help. Rafi's too. It's been so nice to see him after all these years." She moved to rummage around in her purse. "I wanted to thank you personally. I couldn't get my hands on one for Kate, but I did find this." Pulling a yellow bit of paper from her bag, she flourished it theatrically. "And I'm still close with Ted, our Michael, so I got him to sign it too."

It was a playbill. Softened at the corners with age, that unmistakable banner was splashed boldly across the top. Reaching out, he gently took it from her hands, eyes zeroing in on the text reading 'Tick, Tick... BOOM!' in thick black lettering. Two sharpied signatures adorned it.

"Don't go running to eBay now, yeah?" Lily's voice was fond, teasing. "I don't want to see it for sale any time soon."

"Oh, never, Ms. Leland. It's getting its own protective detail. But first, there's a signature I think I'm missing." 

She thanked him yet again, bestowing a cheek kiss as well, before she met with her family a few feet down the hallway and headed for the doors.

An hour later, armed with a plastic bag from the bodega on the corner, Sonny gave three sharp knocks to Barba's office door. It looked like Carmen was done for the day, so he quickly snagged a marker off of her desk and slid into the office following the short "It's open," that issued from within.

"Came to congratulate you, Counselor!" Sonny blew past pleasantries and straight to the point. He hoped that his quick decision to lean into the overly friendly, everyone-is-family Italian ideation of his upbringing didn't backfire. "I bet you're happy."

Looking up from the page he was currently scribbling on, Barba did a double take when met with Sonny's lanky form. 

He had been doing his best to avoid the squad as much as possible during the trial. He wasn't even sure if they'd discovered what his connection to Lily was, or if they'd seen any evidence, but he wasn't about to take any chances. A bootleg was probably out there somewhere and Rafael had been kicking himself for not thinking of that being a possibility at the time.

Barba wasn't embarrassed. Not really. Maybe it was the reveal of his personal life that made him uncomfortable, or the idea that any of the SVU team would make fun of him. Make fun of him, he scoffed in his head, like they were school kids. Ridiculous. He needed to get over himself; even in the sliver of a possibility that they had seen any hard evidence of his theatrical past, he was still Assistant District Attorney Rafael Barba. He still commanded respect, still easily captured a courtroom's attention. He was still someone to be taken seriously.

Everything would be just fine. The trial was over and no one had mentioned Tick, Tick or his past extracurriculars. He knew that he'd have to face the music soon, but he'd just hoped that he'd have had more time, and also that it didn't have to be Carisi.

The younger man infuriated Rafael. It was mainly born from a frustrating attraction that had developed minutes after meeting him for the first time. Even with that damned moustache (both an easy target and a surprise turn-on that had spooked Barba so much that he'd been days away from going to Confession for the first time since before Y2K when Carisi finally shaved it off), Rafael knew he was gone for Sonny. Which, in turn, made him even more annoyed. Mostly at himself for his continuously misguided attraction, but somewhat at Carisi for his deeply dimpled smile, his legal natterings that somehow managed to be both maddening and endearing, or the way that his stupidly nice ass looked in those slim pants of his. 

So, yes, he'd rather his first squad interaction following this trial not be Sonny Carisi. But, no such luck.

Taking deliberate time to cap his pen, Barba let the detective stew in silence for a moment.

"Thank you," he said eventually, eyeing the shopping bag suspiciously. "It was hardly an over-complicated case, but still nice to get the right verdict. It was good for Lily, for her to start moving forward."

Carisi beamed that bright dimpled grin and sat down in one of the chairs facing Barba's desk.

"It must've been wild to see her! Nice though, meeting old friends again. Never did hear you mention how you guys know each other."

"Mm," Barba hummed his agreement. "We crossed paths when I was at college." A short, dismissive answer. "Is there another reason for your visit, Detective?"

"Just wanted to, y'know, say congrats," Sonny replied, a little awkward as he skirted around his true intentions.

"And you have. But I'm noticing you're still sitting in my office." Barba's voice was light, amused. He was evidently enjoying himself.

"And I wanted to also- I guess what I mean is-" Sonny huffed, fidgety hands rustled the plastic of the shopping bag. "I see what you do, Counselor. I don't want to say being at Fordham helps me notice, but my Ma didn't raise a liar. I see how hard you work, how much you want justice for the victims. All the vics, not just this one." Sonny sighed. 

He was starting to second guess his purchase. It had seemed so funny when he’d thought of it, even funnier when he'd paid the confused clerk at the bodega through barely controlled giggles. Now though, sitting in Barba's office, surrounded by the very essence of the man, Sonny was seriously considering cutting his losses and sprinting out the door.

"You know the law like the back of your hand; it's professionally infuriating how good you are at your job, Barba. So, yeah, I just wanted you to know that someone out there's appreciating how hard you work." Sonny smiled at the incredulous look on Barba's face. He stood quickly, splitting the difference and deciding to head out sans gift giving.

"Carisi, I don't-" The older man stared at him with wide eyes.

"Colour me surprised. I've rendered Rafael Barba speechless."

Sonny was already by the door by the time Barba managed to find some words.

"Thank you. I-... thank you." Short, as professional as possible, but with a little undercurrent of genuine appreciation that Sonny could sense. "What's the bag?"

"Oh, nothing!" He felt his face start to flush pink and he pulled the present close to his chest. "I was just getting coffee on the corner and got it as a 'congrats on putting the rapist away' gift but-" He shrugged, letting out a little chuckle. "'S a bit stupid now, eh? An adult giving another adult a blue ribbon."

"Depends on what the ribbon is." Rafael, fingers gently touching Sonny's shoulder, brought them both back to their chairs. "I'm not going to look a gift horse in the mouth."

"Lily gave me a thank you of her own, right after court let out," he started. "It inspired me to get you something too. Keep the good mood going, yeah?" He set the bag down on the desk, pushing aside a case file or two, and brought forth the prize from within. Sonny pulled at his bottom lip with his teeth in an effort to avoid smiling at his own joke.

A twenty-four box of Twinkies sat innocently on the desk, looking so out of place it was criminal.

Rafael's face drained of colour when his gaze fell on the offending box. In a slow drag of his eyes, he looked back up at Carisi. The man in question was so clearly trying to stifle one of his trademark cheeky grins. It started to look somewhat painful.

"You're an ass." He finally said, dropping down into his chair heavily and glaring at the detective. The lawyer heaved a deep breath. "So you know then? Just you? Or is there a gaggle of detectives outside the door ready to join in on humiliating me?" Rafael hadn't expected the sudden look of confused sadness that crossed over the other man's face. His smile had been replaced by an expression so full of concern, it almost made Barba gag.

"Hold on, no one’s gonna be doing any humiliating." Sonny slid back into his chair and leaned forward. "You think we'd do that to you? I know it's been just a bit since I started with this team, but they don't seem like the kinda people who'd go after you for something like this."

"Forgive me if I don't trust you," Barba grumbled, poking at the box dejectedly before ripping it open and taking out one of the offending sweet treats. "You know, I can't even eat these. I'm allergic to the food dye." He tossed the package dismissively onto his desk, where it slid across the surface to meet Carisi's hand.

Sonny tapped the wood absentmindedly, staring down at the dessert as it bonked into him. As he picked it up, he filed this new piece of Barba information into his brain, under the food subcategory. It was a very caffeine heavy section.

"If anything, Counselor," Sonny started slowly, purposefully keeping his eyes off of the man in question. "I think they'd think it was pretty cool. I-" he broke off, finally looking up to catch Barba's eyes.

The green was looking a little misty, a little hurt. Shit , Sonny thought, he's really freaked over this . 

"Barba, I...- no. Rafael, you've got no reason to trust me on this, honestly." He enjoyed the flash of surprise that crossed the other man's face. "I've not been here long, I don't know everyone as well as you do. But, what I do know is that those people see you as part of the team just as much as any other, and they would never hold this against you. You're a linchpin, Rafael, and a fantastic lawyer. We all know it. Okay?"

Barba scrubbed a hand over his face, sniffing loudly and wiping at wet cheeks. It looked like the whirlwind of the trial was finally catching up to him. "Yes, well, thank you, Detective Carisi."

"And the videos," Sonny lit up as he spoke. "When I watched them I could see why you did it. As much as you are a great lawyer, you're an amazing actor, Counselor. I'm waitin' for the other shoe to drop and we all find out you've been to space too." He wrapped himself in the soft, watery chuckle that he pulled from Barba.

"So there are videos then?" He asked, looking unsurprised. "Suppose there's no reason in trying to get them taken down."

"Please don't. They've been on non-stop at my place since this whole thing started."

Rafael quirked an eyebrow. "For case related purposes?"

Sonny felt his cheeks heat up and he smiled sheepishly. "Uh, nah, not entirely, I guess." He gripped the marker in his pocket and continued. "I've loved musicals since I was a kid. Saw a late night re-run of the Guys and Dolls movie and never looked back. I don't shout it out because, well, c'mon you know the kinda guys I work with. Not the immediate squad, obviously, but, y'know. The kids I grew up with in Staten, they made damn sure that I kept my 'faggy shit' away from them. After that, well, I try not to mention it."

"Well, well, well, look at you," Barba said, amusement curling his tongue. Sonny was happy to see the sorrow leave his eyes. The fatigue was still there, but Sonny was coming to understand that it was just a regular part of Rafael's look. "Detective Carisi, a secret theatre kid. Don't worry, Ms. Merman, you're in good company. Your secret's safe with me. But only if you get those things out of my office."

Sonny let out a long breath, tension he didn't know he carried left his shoulders, and he smiled. Tucking the loose cake back in with its brethren, he packed the box into the bag once again.

"Easily done, Counselor." He dithered on his way to the door, turning at the last minute. "Just one more thing, though."

"Yes, Columbo?"

"I need your signature on this."

Barba, who had already gone back to poring over paperwork (despite having literally been crying five minutes prior), looked up with a roll of his eyes. "Another ulterior motive to your visit, Carisi? I'm shocked." He held out his hand for whatever it was that needed his Hancock.

What Sonny passed over was not a warrant or a statement, or even an office birthday card. It was, instead, a playbill that Rafael hadn't seen in years. 

A marker peeked into his eyeline and he glared sternly at the man handing it over. The grin Carisi was sporting did nothing to help Rafael's ever present and ever frustrating attraction to him. There was a nice empty expanse near the bottom right, so he scrawled off his signature and handed the paper back to Sonny. 

He took it in his hands like it was the Magna Carta. After carefully putting it in his bag, he made for the door. "Lily made me promise not to sell it but now that it's got the mysteriously disappeared Rafi Osvaldo's signature, I might change my mind."  

He had barely made it to the door when a block of sticky notes collided squarely with the back of his head, followed by a shout of "I will sue you!"

Sonny tipped back his head and laughed.

It was night. Light from the street flooded into the apartment, illuminating everything in a soft yellow glow. The clock on the stove flashed 11.47pm. An ill advised cup of coffee sat on the counter, steam disappearing into the air.

Rafael Barba sat at his tiny kitchen island, one hand wrapped around his mug, the other slowly pecking at the keys of his laptop. His face was washed out by the pale light of the screen, and his eyes burned from his exceedingly long day, but if he didn't do this now, he'd never do it at all.

The page loaded and a line of videos appeared. Rafael took a fortifying sip of caffeine before he clicked on the playlist that he'd been avoiding since being made aware of its existence.

He couldn't help the laugh that came out of him when the black screen made way for his own youthful face. It wasn't until he was nearing the end of the collection when he was hit with a wave of nostalgia so great and so sudden that he could now understand why it used to be an official cause of death. His limbs twitched with the muscle memory of choreography and his skin prickled with phantom stage fright. As the tinny notes of Louder than Words strained out of his laptop speakers, Rafael stared at the trio of people on the screen. The song ended and he stopped the video before the image disappeared. 

He remembered every single thing that he had been feeling in that moment on stage. Rafael busied himself with sipping at his coffee, having given up on any thoughts of heading to bed. He had never felt the need to share his experience with anyone, content with the memories staying contained. The videos, however, made him want to spill every detail to the very next person he came across. 

In the dark of his kitchen, Barba battled with a sudden onslaught of regret over having not been open about his past. Memories started to flip across his mind like an old ViewMaster, each one reminding him of another and then another and another and another. A veritable tree grew up from his temporal lobe. The need to share buzzed under his skin. He wanted others to know the story of when a particularly vicious critic had shown up rip-roaring drunk and had tripped down the stairs during the interval, or when Lily had made a joke about an usher's truly abysmal haircut that had had Ted spewing chocolate milk from his nose. Rafael couldn't remember the joke, but he could very much recall the haircut and any humour at its expense would have been warranted.

Barba's eyes found the shape of the electric piano on the stage and he felt a tug in his gut. Gaze swiveling to the corner of his apartment, he glared at the upright squeezed between a window and a heavy bookcase stuffed full of old textbooks and corner store paperbacks. 

Ten years ago, a choir teacher friend of his Mami's had had a brand new Steinway donated to her class by a previous student who'd gone on to make a small fortune in music production. This left the woman with a leftover piano that needed shifting. Lucia Barba, who had invested much of her time into teaching her boy to play, happily accepted the instrument on her son's behalf. She didn't need to ask him about whether or not he actually needed an entire piano, why would she? She was his mother, she didn't need to ask - a mother knows what's best for her child. 

After much grunting and huffing, the standup piano was slotted into Rafael's apartment. The battered, darkly stained pine settled surprisingly well among the scattered mess of Barba's living space. He barely played it, only coming to the keys when he remembered he had the thing and also had a few moments to spare. The two didn't often converge. So, it was relegated to collecting dust and keeping file boxes off of the floor. The stray cat that had adopted Rafael's apartment as her own some months ago liked to lounge on the top, snoring away as her honey-coloured tail twitched. Once he'd resigned himself to the fact that he had acquired a cat, she had been gifted a collar with a little bell and a fish-shaped name tag that identified her as Rosa. On more than one occasion, the feline had turned over in her sleep and tumbled onto the piano's keys, spooking herself and skittering away to jump into a startled Rafael's arms. 

She sat there now, as Barba made his way over to the piano almost cautiously, pale yellow eyes tracking his journey. He set his coffee onto the windowsill and sunk down onto the bench. A hand reached out tentatively and pressed a few keys. 

It was a few moments before he realised he was four bars deep into Why. It had always been his favourite to play. He liked being on stage with Lily and Ted, liked the way they fed off each other's energy, and having an extra lifeline once the lights went up was always nice. 

With Why, though, it was just him and his piano. 

Rosa started to purr as Rafael kept playing, stretching out as she cracked her back contentedly. Their eyes met as his fingers deftly plunked the last few chords, the sound lingering after hammer hit wire. He reached out to give the cat a distracted scratch under her chin. With his other hand, Barba searched for where he'd left his phone by his coffee mug.

The call connected before he had time to find an excuse to ring off.

"Lily." Rafael's voice was awkward but warm. "It's Rafael Barba ... Introducing myself is a bit redundant, yes. Force of habit. I was wondering - ... Yeah, I did see the news. Surprisingly tasteful, for once. Listen, you mentioned you were still friendly with Ted?" He glanced nervously at Rosa. When his query was confirmed, he pressed on. "I was thinking it... it might be nice to meet up, get lunch, all three of us. Could talk about old times and complain about our knees like everyone else our age." The burst of excitement on the other end of the line was answer enough. 

Lily wasted no time in queuing up a day, time, and reservation. All before they even ended the call. He made sure to put the appointment into his calendar before sliding his phone back onto the windowsill.

Rosa took up a pew in the form of her owner's lap and he gave her head a few pats. She curled up into a ball and promptly went to sleep.

Rafael's phone pinged and he gazed over the lip of his mug to watch a text come in from Lily, the information for their meeting detailed succinctly and confirming the presence of their third party. She'd signed off with We can't wait to see our Rafi again!!, and wasn't that something?

Barba couldn't stop the smile that cracked through his carefully constructed walls.

"I bet you're the kind of guy who says his favourite show is Floyd Collins just to try to impress people." Barba had a tomato speared on his fork and was pointing it in Carisi's direction, a smirk playing on his lips.

Since the trial had been wrapped up neatly the month prior, Sonny felt like his and Barba's relationship had begun to toe the ever thinning line between professional and personal. On the personal side, they had somehow managed to get themselves into a weekly routine of eating together for Wednesday lunches. The professional side of these was their being disguised as 'working lunches'. No one had yet to argue with this excuse so far.

Sonny's own fork stopped halfway between his mouth and his gnocchi. He hadn't come here to be insulted! Twisting his face into a look of feigned offense, he leant back in his seat.

"Who do you take me for, Barba? I only learned about that show, like, last year anyway. And, c'mon, a guy slowly dying after getting stuck in a cave? You think that's my style?" He flapped his fork-free hand. "Boh, I'm a smart enough guy to love Guettel, but Floyd's a bit... bleak for me."

Rafael chuckled and shook his head fondly. The tomato was eaten, the salad then set aside because he was hardly about to torture himself more than necessary. Sonny's eyes tracked him as he absentmindedly curled his tongue around his fork to clean it of any excess dressing. 

"And anyway," he continued tentatively. "My favourite show is Legally Blonde. Number one in my top three."

"Of course it is." The lawyer smiled that soft, barely there twitch of his lips that Sonny coveted whenever it made an appearance. "What are the other two? A Bronx Tale and It Shoulda Been You?"

Sonny's face flamed. "They're not not in the top five..."

Barba threw his head back in a laugh. "You're an easy read, Carisi." He took a swig of his coffee. "But, back to Simons v. Mulligan-"

As Barba shifted the conversation back onto the topic of squatting and property law, Sonny crossed his legs tightly and smiled through the flush creeping its way up his neck.

It wasn't until Carisi was shrugging on his coat, intent to make his way back to the precinct, when Barba brought up the time he had actually met Adam Guettel by chance while in line at a deli in Brooklyn, that theatre entered the conversation yet again. It was becoming a theme for them, not that Sonny minded. Finally having someone to chat musicals with scratched an itch he hadn't known he'd had. 

And Barba was never hard to talk to. Everything seemed easy whenever Sonny was with him, no matter how complicated a case might become. Sonny was quickly coming to realise that his crush had shifted into full blown infatuation. 

He started to notice his gaze lingering a little longer on the lawyer's backside, and his fingers twitching with an increased longing to sink them into Barba's smooth, dark hair. Sonny wondered often if the rest of his hair was just as thick underneath all those layers. The urge to slide the man's suspenders down off of his strong shoulders was growing as each day passed. The detective's favourite pair at the moment were a rich, royal purple shot through with almost undetectable gold threads. Sonny noticed the glimmer under the courtroom lights, though. Just like he always noticed how Barba favoured three-piece suits for the cross-examinations that he deemed to be more finicky, or how his coffee cup might have the logo of the cart outside his building, but, at any given moment in time, was most likely filled with sneakily prepared instant from the tub of Bustelos that the ADA thought he kept well hidden in Carmen's desk drawer.

It didn't take long for Sonny to start smiling at any mere mention of the man.

The day that Sonny found himself twenty-five minutes deep into a heated but jovial debate over who the best Valjean was (Rafael insisted it was Ramin Karimloo, Sonny was a staunch Alfie Boe supporter but agreed that Karimloo was a tour de force), he crashed into the conclusion that he loved Rafael Barba. Properly loved, with the dreams of suburbia, two-and-half kids and a dog, of cars with high safety scores and all that. 

A filament had sparked in his chest and he'd felt an all encompassing warmth wash over his entire soul.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" Rafael had asked, a little smile on his face, having just finished laughing at a joke Sonny had made at the expense of Hugh Jackman.

"Like what?" 

"Like you just discovered the answer to the universe and it wasn't what Douglas Adams had in mind.

"Maybe I did." Sonny had beamed cheekily as he finally set down the case file he had initially been sent over to deliver. The squad wouldn't say it, but they all knew he'd take any chance to visit Barba's office. "That's for me to know and you to find out, Counselor."

He'd rapped his knuckles on the man's desk, winked, and had fled from the room before his brain had had any chance to catch up.

Rafael Barba came to the understanding that he was in love with Sonny Carisi on a sunshine-laden Spring afternoon. 

The detective was laughing along to something Amanda had said, his cheeks dimpling in a way that made Rafael's chest tighten. Sonny was gesticulating, with increasingly worrying intensity, using the gag gift mug Barba had given him during one of their weekly lunches.

Rafael had called it a gag gift, but he knew that jokes didn't take weeks to buy while dithering over font choices. It was a very specific mug, bought from one of those sites that anyone can upload their designs to. Barba thanked the artists of the world for their service to his definitely not on purpose wooing of a certain detective. After Sonny had confessed his musical fanaticism to not just the ADA, but eventually the squad at large, Rafael had all but jumped at the opportunity to outfit the man's work space with appropriate decorations. And if the growing collection of gifted knick knacks dotted around the prosecutor's own office was anything to go by, Sonny gave as good as he got. 

The mug in question was mostly white, with an obnoxiously pink logo splashed across it. The original run dates and cast were listed on the side, while the quote of "What, like it's hard?" circled the inside lip. The blinding beam of a grin that Barba had gotten from Sonny when he'd taken it out of the packaging still brought a bit of a bounce to his step.

Sonny laughed hard enough to let out a short snort, which then set Amanda off, which in turn sent them both into another fit of giggles. Certainly a refreshing sight for a building so often filled with pain. As he watched Sonny wipe tears from his eyes and wheeze his breathing back to normal, Barba, right then and there, ran headlong into the fact that he was in love with Detective Domenico Carisi Jr..

"Shit," he muttered under his breath.

Knowing was one thing, admitting it was an entirely different thing altogether. How was he supposed to act during their lunches now? Hiding his affection was easier when he’d called it a juvenile crush, a passing distraction. But this... this could blow up in his face spectacularly.

He pushed on towards Olivia's office before either of the tittering detectives noticed his arrival.

Sitting at a booth in an almost empty cafe, Sonny fiddled with the salt shaker as he waited for Rafael. The tickets he'd picked up that morning burned a hole in his breast pocket.

For Sonny, Wednesdays had become practically as sacred as his Sundays. And this particular lunch had to go absolutely perfectly or else he had full intentions of retiring from the force, buying a pig, and running off to be a truffle hunter in Tuscany. He was pretty confident that he could work the vest. 

Escaping to truffle country looked more and more likely when Barba eventually arrived and smiled as he slid into the booth across from Sonny. The detective's carefully curated plan of action crumbled the minute the older man divested himself of his jacket, leaving him in his waistcoat, and revealed an enticing set of oxblood suspenders with dark leather detailing. The entire speech he'd spent all morning writing flew from his mind.

"I have tickets." Sonny cringed at his own overeager voice.

Rafael chuckled as he settled in to read the menu despite both men knowing that he got the same thing every time. Barba was nothing if not a creature of habit.

"I'll alert the media, Detective."

"You like Sondheim, right?" Sonny's voice had pitched up awkwardly and his face flamed as he inwardly kicked himself. What kinda mook was he? It's not like he didn't already know the answer. He might as well have asked the guy if he liked scotch or pocket squares or expertly pieced together prosecutions.

Barba turned over the menu to idly peruse the back. "I'm going to pretend that you didn't just ask me that, Carisi," he said without looking up.

"Regretted it the minute I said it." 

"I'm coming to see that as a pattern for you." 

The menu was set down with the arrival of their waitress. After ordering and having their awaiting mugs filled with teeth-shatteringly strong coffee, Rafael nodded towards his companion.

"Alright then, what're they for, the tickets?" 

Sonny pulled them from his jacket and fanned them out on the table. His excitement managed to overcome his nerves.

"Sondheim in the Park! They're doing Merrily in concert. Nothing super choreographed or costumed, but the line up's good, and it's only on for a little bit longer. Managed to snag some tickets this morning from my cousin." And Sonny thanked the universe every day for allowing him to reap some benefits from Cousin Pepe once again breaking up with his rich and well-connected girlfriend. He had no doubt that they would be back together at the end of the month, just like every other time they split.

"You've caught my attention." Barba leaned forward to get a look at the tickets. An eyebrow raised when he saw how good the seats were.

"I was-" Sonny broke off to clear his throat. When had it gotten so hot? He rolled his shoulders back in an attempt to shake off the sticky feeling starting to shiver along his spine. "I was hoping that you'd come with." 

Barba was caught up in the sudden intensity of Sonny's light eyes as the younger man looked at him shyly from under pale lashes. Something unfurled in his chest. 

They had gone to see things together before. Not often, truthfully, but here and there when their work hours permitted. The amateur avant-garde production they'd seen a while ago was still a common source of material for their shared jokes. The almost certainly haunted marionette in the role of Norma Desmond had been particularly memorable.

This felt like something else, though. Something... further?

Rafael's eyes flicked from Sonny's face to the tucked way he was sitting, his fingers drumming at his ribcage. He could tell that these were nerves beyond the jitters Sonny had had early on in their budding friendship. Barba didn't want to hope that this was what he thought it was, but fucking Christ he would dissolve into the earth right in the middle of Manhattan if he was right. 

"Sonny," Rafael said softly. 

Their eyes met and his stomach swooped. Throughout the entire evolution of their relationship, he had never used the detective's nickname. As they sat across from each other now, staring in silence, they both felt something shift; something they'd been dancing around for awhile now. 

"Sonny, ask me what you really want to ask." 

Sonny's Adam's apple bobbed and he shifted his hands to smooth out the already very flat theatre tickets. "Rafael, I'd...- would you like to go to the theatre with me? Together. Romantically. As a date."

Rafael thought the pink blush dusted over Sonny's cheeks was endlessly endearing. His heart pounded away in his chest and his chin tipped forward in an unconscious nod.

"I would like that very much, yes." His smile was gentle, tentative - nothing like the usual wicked grins they so easily shared.

The smile Rafael got in return could have powered the city of New York for the next five years. 

By the time the waitress brought the food over, they were chatting idly and sipping away at their coffees. The fingers of their free hands were loosely intertwined where they rested on top of the table like it was the simplest act in the world.

Barba absentmindedly stroked his thumb over Sonny's knuckles and both men silently made the personal and totally unbiased decision to take an extra long lunch break.

They inevitably fell into bed together a few hours after bickering good-naturedly over who'd perform Franklin Shepard Inc. better between the two of them. Barba was named the winner, as he did talk for a living, after all. Sonny had smiled and stolen a kiss. Half an hour later, and Sonny had taken a great many other things, with Rafael enthusiastically encouraging him the entire time.

They fell into bed together again the night after. And every night for the rest of the week. Three weeks after that and Sonny was an all but permanent feature in Rafael's apartment. His place was just the slightest bit bigger than Sonny's, which, by New York standards, might as well have been a mansion. 

Both men happily lived in each other's pockets, with no thoughts about disclosing anytime soon. They wanted to keep their secret to themselves just a little bit longer. Bureaucracy had a way of tarnishing the shine of relationships. 

At the one month mark, Sonny started calling them "boyfriends". Rafael scrunched his nose up at the term with feigned distaste. It sounded juvenile, but he admitted to himself in the dark of his bedroom at night, Sonny's long body wrapped around him from behind, that he liked being a boyfriend. He'd never had a proper boyfriend, really. Just a few short flings here and there with maybe a few lasting longer than a month or two. Having Sonny, therefore, was something new to study. And studying was something that Rafael was very adept at.

Keeping the secret got harder by the second. Especially when his lingering gaze and subtle change of demeanor with Sonny at work drew the curious and well-trained eye of a certain SVU captain.

Olivia wasted no time beating around the bush the second that Rafael dropped into his regular seat at Forlini's. Him and Sonny had just crossed the two month threshold and disclosure seemed to always be on his mind. Except for maybe now, when his lips were still tingling with the kiss Sonny had captured him in before he'd left for the bar.

He blinked and forced himself to be present with his best friend.

"I brought these for you." She slid a duotang across the counter towards him, a knowing look in her eye as she surveyed him and sipped her wine.

Rafael flipped the folder open to be faced with neatly filled out and hole-punched disclosure forms for both the NYPD and the DA's office. All that was left to finish them were a few personal questions that she wouldn't have known the answers to, and the lines where his and Sonny's signatures would go. He felt his face get hot and he closed the duotang with slow deliberacy. He respected Olivia enough not to pretend that he didn't know what she was on about.

"We're waiting," he said, thankfully accepting a rocks glass from the bartender and taking a fortifying drink. "Yes, we've worked together a good while now, yes, we're friends, and yes, I like to think we fit together. But, Liv, it's... it's still fresh." He looked up at his friend from the depths of his scotch. He hadn't eaten since breakfast and the burn of alcohol in his empty stomach thrummed through his body, making him loose and sentimental. "It's still fresh and I really... I really don't want to fuck it up."

Olivia reached out a hand to squeeze his shoulder. "I'm not saying to do it now, Rafa. Just keep it in mind. The longer you wait the more complicated it gets on the other end. We both know how McCoy can be." She drained her glass and signalled for another. "If it makes you feel any better, I think you and Carisi are going to be great. He might be the best UC I've ever had, but that man cannot act for the life of him whenever you're in the room. I'm surprised no one's called him on it yet. You've got him wrapped around your little finger, Counselor."

Rafael huffed a short laugh and smiled. "More like I'm around his."

"This is a good thing." Her tone turned soft, motherly. Rafael recognized it from listening in on her victim interviews with young kids. "I know you, Barba. You're overthinking, especially about disclosure, and your brilliant lawyer brain is sabotaging your mere mortal heart. Keep your good thing going, Rafa. For all our sakes. We can't have you being all surly again. Well, no more than expected. And I have enough detective turn around in my office as it is, I don't need Carisi getting shuffled around again."

Rafael polished off his Glenmorangie and tapped two fingers on the bar for a refill. 

"Said your piece?"

Olivia smirked from behind the rim of her glass. "Only other thing I'd suggest to you, Counselor, is to not try to weasel your way out of the team bonding karaoke night that Rollins is going to bully you into attending." She reached out to give the man's back a whack when he choked on his drink and started to sputter.

"You'll have to kidnap me." He wheezed out, coughing a few times and clearing his throat in order to breathe properly again.

Olivia let out a clear, joyful laugh. It was enough to make the corners of Rafael's lips twitch upwards. "She will, if it comes to it. You really thought you'd get through Lily's trial without the squad finding out? I'm practically holding Amanda back every time you're in the same room. Finn told Munch and he's decided you have a secret, musically inclined identical twin. And he's barely held a conversation with you." Her eyes twinkled with mischief in the low light. She reached out to rub slow circles on his back. 

Barba groaned and pressed his forehead into the bartop. He didn't even care that it was probably sticky with old beer. "So everyone's chomping at the bit to tear me to pieces. Thanks for the heads-up."

"Rafa." The disapproval in Olivia's tone could not be denied. "You know they'd never do that. Not really. This is just the way they show they like you. Think of them like kindergarteners."

"Pulling my pigtails, are they?"

"Would you rather they go back to them thinking you're a pretentious asshole?" She raised a brow and stood up from her seat to stretch. "I watched the videos too, even read some reviews from the time. They were very flattering."

She paused as Barba groaned again and rolled his head to the side to glare at her.

"I was... blown away, I guess you could say. You're good, Rafael. You were good when you did the show, and you're good now in court with us. Amazing, even. Fantastic from every angle." Oliva started to gather her things and tucked some bills under her empty glass. "And we will all share just how good we think you and your musical past are at team bonding karaoke."

"I'm not coming."

"Finn's already booked a private room and Carisi has put a ban on anyone making fun of musicals, so he assures us that there will be plenty and we will enjoy them whether we want to or not. There'll be food, booze, Amanda inevitably screaming her way through Jolene. You'll love it. I'm surprised Carisi hasn't told you about it already, honestly. But really, Rafa, you should be nothing but proud of what you did. With your performing, with Lily's case, and with every other person you've gotten justice for. But, especially for that mouthy little kid from the Bronx who managed to live both of his dreams." The man in question had straightened his spine by the time Olivia's coat had been fully done up. His gaze was skyward, eyes a little glassy.

She looked up from where she'd pulled her phone from her bag. Rafael had his head back and was draining the last drops of his second glass. "I'll think about it," he said, a third drink appeared by his elbow as he spoke. "If he-... I'll... yeah, I'll think about it."

"That's all I can ask." She held her hands up, open in acceptance. Her phone pinged with the notification for her ride. "Sorry to leave you, but I've got an early start. We have our new guy coming in tomorrow."

"Right, yes." Barba's voice was still a bit hoarse from his coughing fit. The reason for her departure brought forth, from the far recesses of his mind, the memory of a conversion he'd had early on in his residency in his Manhattan office. A knowing smile began sliding its way onto his lips. He leant forward to ask a question he already knew the answer to. "Dodds' youngest, isn't it?" 

"Middle, technically; twins with the youngest. The way the gossip has it, it goes travelling, cop, arts school. The youngest is something of a black sheep, according to his father. The oldest is apparently 'the trouble', whatever that means." 

"Oh, I'm sure Chief Dodds loves all his children equally." Rafael chuckled, sarcasm infiltrating his tongue, and Olivia cast him a suspicious glance.

"Well let's hope he at least loved this one enough as a child so that he's not an insufferable little addition of nepotism to my team." She grimaced. "Wish me luck." 

Rafael let his eyes close for a second as he accepted Olivia's parting kiss to his cheek. "Thank you, Liv." 

That subtle soft smile returned to her lips. "He's good for you. Let him know that."

He brought the disclosure forms home with him from the bar and placed the folder prominently on the front hall table.

Maybe if he left them right where he had to see them every time he came home, he'd actually get around to handing them in at some point.

Barba met Mike Dodds a few days after the man had started with the team. He was tall and broad, all white teeth and strong jaw. A no nonsense, old school cop raised by a no nonsense, old school cop. The perfect picture of Americana.

"Mr. Barba, great to meet you finally. Your reputation precedes you." Mike's handshake was dry and firm. Barba expected nothing less. "Although I hear your talents go a bit beyond the courtroom, if my colleagues are to be believed." The spark in his eyes made it clear that Mike hadn't needed his new team to enlighten him of the ADA's past. 

"Sergeant Dodds, yes. Trust me, I am well aware of the interdepartmental wagging tongues. Speaking of reputations, you've got some heavy hitters backing yours. The Chief is such a family man." His grip on the handshake tightened as his greeting smile curled knowingly. "How's the younger brother, by the way? Still working? It's been awhile since I've seen him. I hope he finally managed to deliver his package." 

Dodds froze, eyes narrowing, his whole face pinched. They dropped their handshake.

Amanda exchanged looks with Fin, the duo obviously picking up on whatever tension had just entered the room.

Sonny's eyebrows were pulled taught together, and he was rapidly oscillating between looking at what had quickly become his favourite mug, and then at the newest SVU member. He squinted as he seemingly focused in on every minute feature of the man's face. And also very much not his face. Rafael watched in real time as the wheels turned in his boyfriend's brain and those bright eyes, the ones he could never get enough of, ballooned in recognition. 

Gaze moving from where he was studying show dates on his mug, Sonny let out an involuntary, incredulous hushed gasp of: "Kyle!"

Barba turned with a trademark smirk, heading for Olivia's office, and let chaos descend behind him.

Rafael had given Sonny a pet name and hadn't even noticed. 

Calling him "Sunshine", "Querido", "Baby", "Dipshit", or any other variations, was expected. Maybe not the last one, but Sonny always enjoyed the playful annoyance from Barba whenever it left his lips. Rafael might keep his affection close to his chest, but that hardly meant it didn't get used. Sonny took as much advantage of this as he could when it came to being addressed; he had thought Rafael's transition from "Detective" to "Carisi" to "Sonny" would be the end of it. Everything else had been a very welcome surprise.

Rafael blamed his grandmother. His mother too. Lucia and Catalina had learned of Sonny several months into his and the detective's relationship, entirely by accident, when the duo had let themselves into Barba's apartment. It would only be a few weeks later when they'd properly meet him in person for the first time.

Sonny hadn't been there, thank God, but Rafael hadn't gotten the chance to hide the evidence of another man having been in his apartment. Specifically, the strip of photo booth pictures tacked to the fridge with a novelty magnet from the Natural History Museum. The photos themselves were sweet and innocent, taken on an early date when Sonny had dragged Rafael into a pop-up booth that was clearly a camera store's desperate attempt to entice customers.

There were four in all, and Rafael coveted them. No matter how much he'd grumbled when they'd been taken.

The first two showed Sonny trying to loosen his boyfriend up, long arms draped over tight shoulders, kisses pressed to lips, cheeks, jaw, and aquiline nose. It did the trick, and the next two photos had Rafael eagerly joining in. The last one was his favourite, where Rafael had his head tilted up and a little to the side, giving the camera ample view of his neck as Sonny captured him in a slow, soft kiss. He could still feel the phantom pressure of Sonny's mouth on his whenever he looked at it.

Rafael kept the strip on the fridge, where he could catch a glimpse of it whenever he needed to remind himself that Sonny did want to be with him. Someone good and kind cared for him and his well being. No amount of therapy would rid Barba of his relationship paranoia. It was difficult to imagine someone being in love with you when you didn't believe yourself to be lovable in the first place.

No matter how much he loved the photos, however, it didn't mean they didn't get stowed away with every other Sonny-related object in the apartment. But, in his frantic cleaning before the door well and truly opened, he missed the photos. He had felt his stomach turn to stone when both women's eyes caught the incriminating evidence.

Lucia Barba had plucked the strip from under its magnet and studied it as if it were one of her students' report cards. Looking up, she'd given her son a sharp stare.

"You and this boy, ¿cuánto tiempo?"

"Long enough to know it's good, Mami."

His mother had stared sternly at him, had just pointedly stuck the pictures back onto the fridge and said no more on the topic. Rafael would later be subjected to a lengthy interrogation and a lecture about his historically unfortunate choice of men - Lucia Barba would be able to find faults in Mother Teresa.

Catalina had been the one to exclaim with joy, clasping her hands in front of her before patting Rafael's chest affectionately.

"Ay, mijo, he's so tall! And that smile, so bright! ¡Como un girasol que te sigue!" Rafael had chuckled and hugged his abuela tightly, like he'd done so many times before in her quiet kitchen as a child. Comforting and safe, surrounded by her warm food and loving smile. Even now, if he was having a particularly hard time with a case or, really, just life in general, he would make the trek to the Bronx and spend the night at Abuelita Catalina's. 

His grandmother's habit of referring to Sonny as Rafael's "Girasol" (even more so once she learned his name) led to him unknowingly absorbing it into his vocabulary. Something that Sonny later pointed out, but not until months had gone by since its first utterance.

"It's the same in Italian, y'know." He voiced one evening. They were tucked up on the sofa, Rafael's head in Sonny's lap as the younger man played with his hair. The fingers didn't stop their petting, nor did Rafael's eyes leave where an old Night Court re-run on the TV cast the living room into a low light.

"Hm? What is, baby?"

"Sunflower."

His boyfriend's hands stopped moving and Rafael blinked dumbly up at Sonny. 

"That is what you're saying, isn't it?" Sonny smiled down at Rafael. "Spanish just knocks the ‘E’ off the end. 'Girasol' versus 'girasole'." His Spanish pronunciation was just barely saved by its shared Latin root with his own other language. 

"I guess I should have known that," Rafael said after a few moments of silence. Sonny's fingers once again started their repetitive journey through his dark hair. "Is... you don't mind, do you?"

Sonny, as he always did when he saw Rafael feeling insecure, moved one of his hands and cupped his face. He smoothed a thumb over the older man's prickly stubble. "Of course I don't mind, Rafi. So long as you don't mind what I call you in my head."

"And what would that be?" Sonny could hear the cautious curiosity in his boyfriend's voice. Moving to rub gentle circles at the hinge of the man's jaw, he took his time before answering, relishing instead in Rafael's eyes fluttering closed at the sensation.

"Orsetto," he said plainly. He could practically hear the other man trying to draw lines between the two languages in an attempt to translate. Sonny eventually heard a sputtered noise of confusion. 

"You get to be a flower but I'm a bear?!" Rafael's exclamation was met with a short snort.

"Not that kind of bear, Rafi." Sonny's amusement was evident. "Not that you wouldn't qualify - we both remember what the sink looked like that time you thought manscaping was a good idea."

Rafael made to argue, ever the lawyer, but Sonny barreled onwards with the practiced precision of someone used to battling ADA Barba to get a word in edgewise. 

"It's "little bear", because you're powerful and protective, but you're also kind've a small guy, y'know? Compared to me, anyway."

"Very flattering. I'm charmed." Sonny looked past the dry delivery, happily sitting, instead, in the emotion swimming in Rafael's gaze. He took Rafael's jaw gently in his hand and tilted it to look him in the eye.

"Shush. I can have my Orsetto, you can have your Girasol, and we can both keep lying to ourselves that we're not sappy and stupid. That sound good?"

Brent Spiner was obliviously enraging John Larroquette on the screen, the kettle beeped on the counter where they'd been waiting for it to boil, Rosa slept soundly atop the piano. Rafael smiled.

"Alright, alright," he said with a short chuckle. "The prosecution rests." He stretched his neck, pouting a little, and Sonny obliged him with a kiss.

After their conversation, Sonny used 'Orsetto' and 'Rafael' almost equally when referring to his partner. There was also a noticeable increase in bear and sunflower themed things around the apartment. Some of the couple's favourites included a daisy-yellow tie with sunflowers embroidered in white gifted to Sonny by Rafael, and a brown bear-shaped mug that quickly became the only thing Rafael drank his morning coffee out of. It just didn't taste the same otherwise.

Rafael stared down at his phone, at the text chain with Lily and Ted shining from the screen. A pop up was asking him if he wanted to add an event to his calendar, he tentatively accepted and entered the details.

Sonny, returning to their table from the washroom, startled him enough to drop his phone, sending it clattering against his cutlery.

"Woah! You okay, caro?" Sonny settled into his seat and reached across the table to take one of Rafael's hands.

"Yeah, just reading." He couldn't help but smile. "Listen, are you free on Friday night?" Barba looked down and pushed his fork through the leftover sauce from his lamb shank. 

"Friday? Should be, yeah. I was thinking maybe I could come over to yours and we could finally sign the forms." The detective sent a calculating look his boyfriend's way.

Sonny had come to Manhattan SVU already out and proud as a bisexual man. He would have been happy to disclose the second after their first night together. Rafael, on the other hand, had been out for decades now, but still found it hard to shake the deeply ingrained messages from his childhood. The Bronx in the 1970s was hardly an environment teeming with gay acceptance. He knew it would affect their work, that was obvious to anyone, but it would also affect how others saw him in his job. 

His entire life had been spent working towards the singular goal of being a lawyer. A serious lawyer who people wouldn't assume got favours due to his cop boyfriend. Rafael was already a thorn in many a practicing defense attorney's side, the ammunition that disclosing his relationship would give them shot him through with worry every time the thought entered his brain.

But, he also was privy to Sonny's face when they were with people and he tripped over introducing Rafael as his "b-...euro's ADA". The sad sheen that overtook his baby blues always made Barba's heart clench. He was finding that every time they were out together, he was wanting to hold the younger man's hand or lean into his shoulder. He wanted to show the people of New York that Sonny Carisi was taken. Taken and loved.

That was something else Rafael quietly panicked over every morning before he got out of bed, Sonny's face tucked into the crook of Barba's neck. 

Love. They hadn't said the actual words to each other, but Rafael knew it was only a matter of time before it came tumbling out of him.

"I was thinking Monday for disclosure actually." He watched Sonny's face break into a grin. His hand was squeezed enthusiastically.

"That sounds amazing, babe. Proud of you." Sonny leaned across the table briefly to press a kiss to Rafael's surprised lips. It was late and the restaurant was mostly empty, so he knew the older man wouldn't mind. He popped the last of his fries into his mouth after pulling back. "So if Friday isn't disclosing, what's going on?"

"You know how I have my standing coffee date with Lily and Ted?"

"Seeing as I've been to at least four of them, yes, Rafi, I know about them." 

"Cheeky, Fordham. Watch it." Rafael shot a smirk at Sonny, making the man laugh. "They got me tickets to this show on Friday. Got one for you too. Lily made it very clear that it was specifically for you." He recalled her intense eye contact. He also remembered the exact reason necessitating the intensity.

Signalling for the bill, Sonny cocked his head at his partner.

"Of course I'll go with you, Orsetto. I know enough not to turn away free tickets. You remember the park." He waggled his eyebrows, a tongue-touched smile earning him a smack on the arm.

"You don't need to remind me. Just, be ready for 6.30 on Friday night and I'll pick you up, okay? We can walk there."

They parted after Sonny walked Rafael right to the front door of his apartment. Both men could hear Rosa scuttling around inside. Rafael reached up, tilting his head a little, to pull Sonny into a tender kiss.

It was soft, gentle, adoring - everything that the world thought Rafael wasn't. Sonny adored being able to see that side of the man, and clung tightly to it every time it emerged.

"Can you stop being pissy now?" Rafael had passed his coat over to the attendant, but his head was turned so he could speak to Sonny, who was pouting.

As the detective handed over his own coat, his pout didn't shift. "No, I'm going to stay being pissy until you say sorry for keeping secrets."

"It wasn't a secret, it just slipped my mind." Rafael huffed as they made their way into the theatre, shuffling along with everyone else as they filed into their seats. "I thought I'd already told you."

"I think I'd've remembered if you'd told me the tickets were for MisCast!" Sonny hissed, but his anger was already morphing into amusement. He often found he had a hard time staying annoyed at Rafael. Once they sat down he tilted his head to rest it on the other's shoulder. Barba was wearing an expertly cut suit in a plum colour so deep it was almost black. It was a favourite of Sonny's. "I'll stop being pissy, babe. Thank you for bringing me."

Rafael smiled and pressed a quick peck to Sonny's hair. The theatre was already darkening and he didn't think anyone would see. 

Sonny glanced around, eyes skittering from his fellows on the floor to the people starting to take their places on stage. He was in the same room as real Broadway people! Raf had said that Bernadette Peters might be doing a song, which was staggeringly amazing to him in its own right, but that was also one degree of separation from THE Stephen Sondheim. Sonny squirmed in his seat at the thought. 

As the stage lights fully came on and the applause started for whoever was pulling the microphone from the stand, Sonny didn't get the chance to digest the fact that, wait a minute, Rafael being in Tick, Tick meant that he was technically only two degrees.

The night sped onwards and Sonny's spine straightened with every passing performance. He was enraptured with each song, laughing and tearing up and clapping the second he could. Rafael kept getting distracted watching him instead of the show. Nerves started to bundle in the pit of his stomach and, as the inevitable approached, his hands started tingling. 

Rafael clenched his jaw as the tingling began to travel up his arms.

Just when the applause started for an incredibly hammed up rendition of Gaston from the enthusiastic female leads of Dogfight, Rafael leaned over to Sonny to whisper mid-clap. "I'll be back. Bathroom." He slipped out of his seat and was halfway up the aisle before the cheers even finished. Sonny snapped his head back to the stage when Lily, with her version of See Her Smile, was introduced as the next performance. 

Three songs later, he realised that Barba had yet to return. A frown creased his face as the lights shifted and the next song started to be introduced. Not by the regular emcee, but instead by Lily. Her face was a little flushed and was beaming bright enough to put the spotlight operator out of work.

"I was asked to introduce the next performance but, honestly, I don't think he needs one. And I don't think he'd disagree." She smiled at the murmur of amusement that passed through the audience. "I did his song, so I think it's only fair that he does mine. I had to twist a few arms to get him here, including his own, but I'm incredibly delighted to welcome my old friend to the stage!"

The lights shifted and Lily stepped away from her mark, blending back into the grouping of fellow performers who had already done their pieces and were happily watching the rest of the show unfold.

Sonny turned his head this way and that, eyes lingering on the doors at the back. Where the hell was Rafael? Did he fall into the toilet and discover some kind of forbidden Narnia?

Just as he was considering forming a search party, the aforementioned friend of Lily's strode onto the stage to be met with applause. Sonny could see Ted was there too, still recovering from his incredibly impressive athletic feats in his Whipped Into Shape. He'd gotten a lengthy, and well deserved, standing ovation for that one. 

The projection on the screen changed and Sonny's automatic clapping stilled. The black screen dissolved to show a picture from a production that he knew very intimately, a picture that sat in a folder on his laptop, a picture that was closer to becoming his phone's wallpaper with every passing day.

Rafael's face, eyes closed and hands poised over electric piano keys, emotion written in every feature, was blown up big. Sonny felt his breath catch in his chest. The picture quality was leagues better than the shitty screengrab he'd taken from the bootleg. Sonny took no time in patting himself down for a pen and writing a reminder on his wrist to find out if there were copies available. Overlayed on top of the image were a few other shots from the Tick, Tick original run showcasing all three actors in all their energetic glory. The playbill for the show sat in the corner, bright yellow and unmistakable. Rafi Osvaldo was stamped across the bottom in a bold typewriter font.

The man himself, pressed and primped to perfection, had a look on his face that Sonny recognized from court. He was composing himself, internally panicking as his eyes roved across the vast audience. Sonny knew that no one else would see it, that no one else had spent endless hours mapping every plane and dip of Rafael Barba's face. Even just that morning, Sonny had awoken before his boyfriend and had relished the opportunity to trace his eyes and gentle fingers all over the man's form. 

A spike of anxiety shot through him, but it was outweighed by the shock, awe, and swell of pride at seeing Rafael under stage lights again.

After glancing back at the screen with a raised eyebrow, Rafael turned to the audience. Sonny saw a smirk playing at his lips. 

"Well, that's a bit much, isn't it?" Sonny felt relief flood through him when a rumble of amusement travelled across the theatre. 

"Hello, my name is Rafael Barba, or possibly Rafi Osvaldo if you knew me when people still sent faxes." And with that, Barba was off, smoothly sliding into the picture of power that he had perfected during his years spent striding the courtroom floor. The two other jokes that he later made in his introduction also got an accompanied ripple of laughter.

As the first notes of Come to Your Senses came to life, Barba had his eyes closed. With a delicate solemnity that Sonny so rarely saw, Rafael's voice effortlessly filled the hall. The whole world seemed to quiet, the surrounding rustle of people becoming muted in Sonny's ears, as the only thing he could focus on was the bright shine in his boyfriend's eyes as they opened.

"Rafi," he breathed as that vein in Barba's neck that he so coveted made an appearance. He placed his program over his lap, just in case.

The last belt came and by then Rafael had fully lost himself. Sonny sat back in his seat and smiled so wide he could feel his muscles protesting. Thunderous applause followed Barba tearing the microphone away from his face with such a ferocity it almost looked like he was about to throw it to the floor. 

With speedily blurring eyes, Sonny stumbled to his feet and made his way to the back exit. Ten minutes and one awkward conversation with security later, and he was being pulled into an empty dressing room by a trembling Rafael Barba.

"Cara mio," Sonny spoke first, his smile a little more manageable now but no less happy. "Rafi, you are amazing!" He enveloped the man in a tight hug that was returned in seconds flat. Rafael tightened his hands into the back of Sonny's shirt and pressed his face into his collar. He could smell the sharp citrus of the younger man's cologne and buried himself in it.

"What the hell did I just do?!" Rafael's voice was panicked and sounded a little dazed. "Sonny, what-... did that actually happen?"

"It definitely did. Applause and all." Sonny peppered kisses along Barba's hairline and down his nose, ending with one long press of his lips to the other man's. He felt the tensions in his boyfriend's shoulders start to loosen. Pulling back, he took Rafael's face gently in his hands and brushed his thumbs over his cheekbones. His emotions were bubbling over and he didn't ever want to stop them.

"I love you." It was soft, an intimate whisper that Sonny thought he would've said for the first time when they were wrapped up in each other's arms in bed. Backstage at a New York theatre would have to do, it would seem. "I love you, Orsetto."

Barba's eyes snapped to Sonny's, searching into the man's soul. He was good at that, at boring into someone's very being with the sole purpose of finding the truth. Whatever truth he was looking for, he must have found, because it wasn't long before his expression melted into one of great affection. He closed his eyes for a moment, sinking himself into Sonny's warm hands, before reaching up just a touch to kiss him soundly.

"I love you too, mi Girasol," he murmured against the younger man's lips.

They lingered in the moment, settling themselves in the quiet of the room. Blue eyes met green and Sonny knew without a doubt that Rafael was nothing but sincere, affection practically rolling off of him in waves.

Sonny tucked an errant lock of hair back from Rafael's forehead and smiled, his dimples taking centre stage. He reached out to take the man's hand.

"C'mon." He was already pulling Rafael out the door and back towards the gaggle of performers. He could see Ted and Lily waving them over. "I think I saw Mike's brother at intermission and I wanna ask him if they had to sew him into his UPS shorts."

Rafael rolled his eyes, but made no protests as he was once again whisked off to socialize. Still riding high from Sonny's words, Rafael would have done just about anything for him. Well, almost anything. A man did have standards, after all.

They were not sewn on, Cameron Dodds later explained once they'd found him by the theatre bar with his wife, a delightfully bubbly woman named Gen who was impossible to miss with her bright pink pixie cut. They shared that they were both currently in rehearsals for a Groundhog Day musical that, to Barba, sounded like an insane thing to adapt for the stage. He promised himself to get tickets and take Sonny once the show opened.

"It was a stretch fabric that they did up to look like a zip. Easy on and off. See?" Cameron was excitedly swiping through a folder on his phone labelled 'L-Blonde' with an egregious amount of pink emojis included, Sonny eagerly drinking in every image. The youngest Dodds was almost identical to Mike, as twins were wont to be, but his hair was longer, the brown a little lighter, and he was a tetch less bulky than his brother, but still more built than anyone had any business being. Sonny decided he liked him on the spot. Rafael needed another fifteen minutes and two fingers of scotch.

"I can't imagine the Chief being too keen on your artistic career path," Rafael mused, raising an eyebrow at the brunet from behind his glass.

Instead of the sheepishness or embarrassment that Barba had expected, Cameron simply chuckled and shook his head good-naturedly. 

"Dad? Nah, he's one of my biggest fans; helped me get into drama school."

The shock on Sonny's face was almost cartoonish. Cameron laughed fully, Gen following suit. He swiped back at his phone and dug deep into his photo gallery as he continued.

"Pops likes to pretend he's this dyed-in-the-wool cop, and he is for the most part." Sonny was starting to get curious, glancing at Rafael to see the same sentiment reflected on his face. "But - god, he'd kill me if he knew I showed you this - but, early on, he did do some... career dabbling." 

Cameron flipped his phone around and Rafael and Sonny were met with an overly orange screenshot of degraded VHS footage. A dark haired man, using more gel than even Sonny did, was standing centre stage. A mass of other men in suits and fedoras surrounded him. Arm crooked, mouth curled in a smarmy smile, eyebrows acting with a mind of their own, an incredibly youthful William Dodds stared back at them from the screen. 

"Sky Masterson in Guys and Dolls before it moved to the Hirschfeld." He smiled at the photo before sliding his phone back to his pocket and passing his wife her refreshed drink. "He could've kept with it, but my Gramps wouldn't have it and put his foot down. Dad'll deny that it ever happened if you ask now, says he was a cop straight from school - but when I showed interest in theatre? God, it was like he was an entirely different guy."

"I will give you my entire wallet right now if you send me that picture." Sonny's tone was entirely serious and was met with both Cam and Gen giggling away. 

The incredulous feeling that slammed into Rafael was, he guessed, not unlike the one Sonny would have received upon seeing the Tick, Tick videos for the first time. The attorney tucked this new information on Chief Dodds into his back pocket, determined to bring it out when least expected. He smirked into his scotch.

By the next morning, Sonny had acquired Cameron Dodds' phone number, the incriminating picture of the Chief, and even a short video clip, singing included. 

Rafael snuck onto Sonny's phone later that week, while the other man was in the shower, and sent the files to his email before he could talk himself out of it.

The Monday after MisCast saw Sonny and Rafael filing their disclosure forms. Rafael ignored the tremor in his hands when he handed the papers off to HR.

Sonny treated him to lunch around the corner from his office. Although he had had to be quite literally dragged from his desk to attend. The case they were currently wading through wasn't complicated, but it was heavy on the paperwork.

The detective walked him back to his office afterwards, his hand reaching out for Rafael's as they slipped through the busy street. Barba's whole body warmed from the contact. 

Every day saw Sonny indulging in the new openness that disclosing their relationship afforded them. He always bid Barba farewell with either a peck on the cheek or a squeeze of their linked hands, he'd abandoned any attempt to hide his affection whenever the ADA was in the room, and he had proudly placed a framed photo of the two of them on his desk. It was a snap that Sonny had captured with the timer on his properly expensive camera.

It had been a bright, sunny day in Central Park. Sonny had been up at dawn packing a backpack with as much food as he possibly could while Rafael wandered in after the sun had arrived, barely awake and squinting skeptically. 

The picnic itself was slow and sweet. It was a charcuterie affair, with Sonny having amassed enough bits and pieces to open his own parkside deli. Rafael had quickly claimed the large container of cerignola olives for himself, much to Sonny's amusement. Early in their relationship Rafael had expressed his dislike of the fruit, until Sonny had introduced him to the vast world beyond just 'green' and 'black'.

They had been pleasantly full, backs resting against a thick tree and shoulders brushing. The sun managed to catch Rafael's hair and made the inky strands glitter almost chestnut in the light. Sonny's heart had filled so suddenly that he'd scrambled to set his camera up. After waving it away with an excuse of interesting birds, he'd managed to snap a few pictures.

The end result was one he'd raced to print out as soon as possible. Rafael had set his book aside, his lap instead suddenly full of lanky guido. Sonny had captured himself smiling up at his boyfriend while the man threaded his fingers into Sonny's rapidly silvering hair.

Sonny took a few moments out of his day to look at the picture, just to make sure to remember what he had waiting for him at home. Because it was home now, ever since he'd packed up his small collection of things and moved into Barba's apartment.

Every time Amanda caught him staring at the picture, she threw a paperclip at his head.

The team karaoke night had been, thankfully for Rafael, postponed due to a case. 

The raincheck was to a date and time that he was only made aware of after having been kidnapped from his office by Sonny and Rollins. They ushered him through the door to their rented private room, Rafael spitting mad the entire way, and forcibly sat him down at a seat right by the front.

Fin and Dodds were already there, happily digging into the food. Olivia arrived a few minutes later and didn't hesitate to join in bullying Barba out of his coat and jacket, nabbing his briefcase from him before he could react.

"I know you'll have fun," Sonny told him as his slender fingers smoothly loosened the older man's tie, popping the first couple of his shirt buttons. "For me?" 

Rafael scowled at Sonny's cheeky, teasing grin but didn't make any move to stop his hands. "Get some scotch in me and I might think about it."

Sonny patted Rafael's chest, gave him a quick kiss on the lips, and sauntered off to collect their drinks.

Begrudgingly, Barba would later admit that the night had been fun. Unfortunately. He hated being proven wrong.

The pitch-perfect Beastie Boyz cover tackled by Mike and Sonny had certainly been... an experience. And Finn's ever-present heckling of the pair never tired. Rafael joined in here and there with the occasional cutting jab.

The whole squad cheered and whooped raucously for Sonny's turn as Elle Woods with a tequila-infused rendition of So Much Better. Rafael and, surprisingly, Rollins (he assumed Sonny had forced her to watch the pro-shot) provided the backing vocals from their seats.

It only took two glasses of Macaloneys and one bottle of beer to get Barba onto the stage. Amanda, who was boozing for the world eleven, had just finished (as previously promised by Olivia) an impassioned and incredibly off-key homage to Dolly Parton, when Sonny plucked his empty glass from his hand and pushed him forward. 

Scotch and a beer meant Jersey Boys, with his Valli being met enthusiastically by the squad. The kick of caffeine from a potent shaft took him down an odd route of channeling his best con-man in an energetic performance of Trouble. Rafael could definitely tell that Fin was confused by why he was singing about the denigrating quality of pool ("Why can't people just extort like in the old days anymore?”), but took it in stride as he did with everything.

The last hour, as the clock on the wall inched closer to the wee hours, evolved into Sonny and Rafael, occasionally with Mike joining in, giving the squad a crash course in musical theatre history. They ran through a veritable cornucopia of showtunes, with a few definite stand outs. Mike's commitment to the bit when the trio had giggled their way through Cell Block Tango (all playing multiple roles) was hailed as the best performance of the night. And the cheering laughter caused by Sonny's capo di tutti capi impression during his Nicky Machiavelli was most certainly loud enough to reach the patrons in the next room. Rafael awarded him a kiss for a job well done.

After much chanting, instigated by Sonny, Rafael Barba wrapped up the evening with an impassioned, and only vaguely slurred, delivery of Defying Gravity. 

Eat your heart out, Menzel! As Sonny lovingly screamed, in so many words, after Rafael made that famous last note his own.

The love that Rafael felt in Sonny when he rushed the tiny stage and picked up the smaller man in a tight hug was unmatched. If he could stay in that moment, flushed and riding high on performance adrenaline, he would. Seeing his Girasol so happy made Rafael content like nothing else.

It could've been the booze talking, but Quinn's Chicken Restaurant and Karaoke Bar might be the best place on earth.

Things shifted as they neared a year since their first date.

Neither of them could remember how the fight started. Probably something to do with the route they'd taken home from a cocktail party celebrating Lily's new show. Rafael had been convinced his way would be faster than Sonny's, and when that turned out not to be the case, he'd refused to back down. Blaming construction work was an easy cop-out in New York. Sonny eventually threw his hands up in frustration and stomped off on his own, making it back home in record time.

In reality, both men knew they were just overworked, strung out, and in need of an outlet. But, Sunday night still had Sonny sleeping on the sofa.

When the fight lost it's original vague context and bled into their current case, and after discovering that the SVU custodian's closet was not as soundproof as previously thought when the whole bullpen had heard Sonny call their ADA a "goddamned self-righteous bastard", it was safe to say that everyone was at their wits end.

"Whatever this is, get it sorted, Carisi," Benson sternly told him, her hand on his shoulder, following a dramatic exit from Rafael. He'd been needling the attorney with obscure case law, the tension between them snapping when Rafael had actually shouted at Sonny to shut up. Not one of their joke-y banter shutdowns, but a full, rage-filled "Enough!" that had had everyone within a five block radius clamming up.

Sonny made it home first, as he often did, and stress-cleaned until he heard the telltale sound of a key scraping in the lock. Rafael entered their apartment looking like he hadn't slept in an age. None of them had since the case started up.

"Are you okay?" The question left Sonny before he could stop it. Rafael, chucking his coat and briefcase down with little concern for their wellbeing, sent an irritated glare his boyfriend's way.

"I'm fine." He pushed past Sonny, heading for their bedroom. "Just getting a bag. I'm going to spend a few days at my mother's."

Sonny gaped, frozen in the bedroom doorway as he watched Rafael haphazardly shove clothes and toiletries into his gym bag.

"Woah, hey, what? Wait a sec, Rafi. C'mon." Sonny made to take Rafael's hands, wanting to stop their incessant packing. The man jerked away and zipped up the bag, a sock catching in the teeth in his haste, and kept his head down as he all but sprinted to the front door. All without saying a word and with Sonny trailing incredulously behind him.

"Rafael!" Sonny tried again, but he was already down the stairs. Rafael was in his head, Sonny could tell. He was overthinking, catastrophizing, and doing his best to solve whatever issue he had invented. When it came to personal problems, the solutions, Sonny had learned, often involved Rafael removing himself from the equation entirely. 

Rafael was halfway down the block when Sonny finally managed to get purchase on his coat and curled his fist into the back of it, stumbling the older man to a stop. Barba was stony faced but Sonny could see his bottom lip threatening to tremble. The bags under his dulled green eyes could win awards. Sonny loosened his grip on the coat and smoothed his hands across the shoulders, squeezing a little as he searched Rafael's face.

"What is this, Orsetto? What's wrong? I can see your brain melting right now - talk to me."

Rafael sniffed hard, tilting his head back to hide the tears gathering in his eyes. They were already starting to redden and Sonny's heart hurt when he saw. "I'm going to my mother's," he said again, like he was reminding even himself. 

Carisi's thumbs rubbed gentle circles absentmindedly on his biceps through the fabric of the man's coat. Rafael cleared his throat and pressed his lips together in a thin line.

"Rafael, please." Sonny didn't even care how desperate he might've sounded, he just wanted to know that his boyfriend wouldn't leave, that he would quit making mountains out of mole hills and actually stop and think for a second.

"I-" Barba's voice was hoarse, quiet in a way that Sonny hated to hear. He didn't sound right, didn't sound like the Rafael he knew. "I shouted at you at work. My relationship compromised how I do my job, how my colleagues see me, my reputation. I need-" his breath hitched and Sonny could swear he growled at himself to get his emotions under control. Only Rafael Barba would try and threaten his own brain into submission.

"I need to go. I need to- I promised myself I'd never let my life interfere with my work. That's why I don't-... I should never have- this was a mistake-... I need to go. I need to leave. I need to-"

"Rafi." Sonny's voice cut through Rafael's panicked ramblings. He shifted one hand to take the man's where it kept his duffle bag in a death-grip, the other going to cup Rafael's cheek gently. The end-of-day stubble prickled against his palm. "Take a breath. You're overthinking again."

"But we-"

"We had a very short disagreement at work that our home life bled into. It wouldn't be the first time in history that that's ever happened. Have you met the rest of the squad?"

"It's different. I'm not-" Rafael's jaw clenched. "I can't be like that at work, I just can't."

"Be like what? A human? C'mon, Rafael. How many times has Amanda's mess overflowed into her job? Or your pal Amaro's. Hell, even Olivia's not immune to work/life bleed. No one is, baby." Sonny sighed, a sad smile gracing his lips. He made sure to never let his gaze break from Rafael's. If he ever lost sight of those infuriatingly green eyes, he might just riot.

Barba blinked hard and the tears he'd been avoiding finally started to fall.

"I need to-"

"Stay," Sonny said, no longer leaving room for arguments. "We don't need to solve everything tonight." Both of his hands were holding his boyfriend's face now, warm thumbs wiping away stray tears. "We'll just... order in and go to bed early, and just be together, okay?"

"Pero mi madre-"

"Rafael, stay. It's late. It's a long way - it's two subways and a bus."

Rafael's face scrunched up, angst briefly forgotten. "What, no it's not? I know you know where my mother lives. What're you talk-" He broke off and the speed with which his expression shifted into annoyed recognition was genuinely impressive. Rafael frowned pointedly, but made no move to pull his face away. He seemed to have been shocked out of his tears. Which, if he thought about it, had probably been Sonny's goal. 

"Are you quoting my own show at me while we're fighting?!"

Sonny pulled back with a chuckle, taking Rafael's hands again with a squeeze as the man sputtered indignantly. The taller man managed to drag a shocked laugh from him as he bent down for a brief kiss. 

"Yes I did. Because I know you, and I knew it would stop you from getting stuck in that personal black hole of yours. I was right, wasn't I? Look, can we just go inside and talk like real adults whose brains have fully formed and who don't try and run away when they're scared?"

Rafael tipped forward and pushed his head into Sonny's chest. With a grunt, he nodded against the soft cotton of the other's shirt, his bag thumping onto the pavement when he felt his fingers start to tingle. 

The walk back to their apartment was measured, with Sonny doing most of the heavy lifting. They made good on Sonny's plagiarized promise and ordered from Rafael's favourite Cuban restaurant. It was across town and took an age to come, costing them a small fortune and earning a glare from the grouchy delivery woman, but tasted leagues better than whatever sad soup Sonny had been intending to half-heartedly heat up. They ate in bed, legs tangled together under the sheets as they heckled their favoured nighttime news channel. Rafael liked to critique the fashion choices in between devastatingly tearing into bad faith Bill proposals and bemoaning the idiocy of politicians. Sonny enjoyed impersonating the reporters and their interviewees, often using whatever was on hand as a microphone, much to his boyfriend's amusement.

They did eventually talk after dinner. Cautious and tentative, like something might shatter if they pushed too fast. Sonny had been in relationships before, pretty regularly if he did say so himself, but never had he had such a desperate urge to keep one in his life.

Rafael surprised Sonny when they went to sleep by insisting on being the big spoon, curling his solid furnace of a body around his partner's boney frame and tucking his face between Sonny's shoulder blades. Just as Sonny could feel himself starting to drift off, warm and safe and comfortable, Rafael's lips ghosts over the shell of his ear, his voice low in a sleepy rumble.

"By the way, if you ever try to argue using musical theatre quotes again, I will cite it as my reason for divorce." 

Sonny let out a puff of laughter. A little zing of joy zipped through him as he thought about his work computer's very extensive search history of jewellers in the city. Neither of them had brought up marriage or proposals, despite many a hint from their friends, but for the past month it had been all Sonny could think about. 

His brain was so full of rings and flowers and romantic dinners that he could almost feel it leaking out of his ears. 

They'd met each other's families by now. The Carisis had been slow to warm to Rafael's... unique charm, but after a Sunday dinner or two, and maybe a bit too much alcohol, he was greeted with open arms and winning smiles. Sonny's mother sent them homemade food as often as she could, usually with very strict instructions for who got what. According to Serafina, her son could wolf down a buffet and ask for seconds, so she never wanted Rafael to miss out. 

Sonny and the Barbas, however, were still a little frosty. Catalina was wonderful, as always, ushering Sonny into her apartment, where savoury goodness eternally wafted from the kitchen, and treating him like the second grandson she never had right from their first meeting. Lucia had been a different story. Sonny liked to think that his relationship with his (hopefully) future mother-in-law was getting better - her lip no longer curled when she saw him - but there was still a long road ahead.

Rafael said not to worry, that his mother did actually like him and was just bad at showing it. "She's just like that," he'd said after Sonny had yet again spent an afternoon fretting over their bi-monthly lunch with Lucia. "Meet her where she's at and she won't eat you alive."

Sonny had yet to be convinced. 

What he was sure of, though, was how very much he wanted to make Rafael Barba his husband. Being able to say it aloud, and not just secretly to himself in the bathroom mirror, thrilled him to the core.

He fell asleep surrounded by the spicy smell of Rafael's shampoo, tucked into the man's arms like he'd been moulded specifically for the very purpose. Sonny knew he'd not be having lunch tomorrow; dragging Amanda out to finally buy a ring was way more important.

Neither man ever voiced it, not the morning after the fight, nor in the days and weeks that followed, but both Barba and Carisi felt a shift in their relationship. An underlying sense of security, of safety and finality. They were it for each other. Rafael still needed to work on his fight and flight reactions, and both of them had to muddle through their self-esteem issues, but they were happy. And wasn't that all they could ask for in their line of work?

When Sonny went home at night he knew Rafael would eventually make it through the door and collapse onto the sofa ready to tear into whatever fresh-faced lawyer he'd faced off with that day. And when Rafael opened that apartment door after work, he knew that Sonny would be there to greet him with a kiss and lengthy reassurances of his all-encompassing affection. 

Trying to ring shop, when he finally found the time between cases, had taken far longer than just Sonny's lunch time, but Amanda had been more than happy to join him for the whole afternoon. The piece that Sonny eventually decided on was gold, the brushed metal set with a miniscule blue opal that glittered kaleidoscopically despite its size. Sonny spent way too long eyeing it before Amanda had taken pity on him and asked the clerk to pull it from the display case.

While Carisi's wallet had been considerably lighter upon leaving the jewellers, the velvet box in his pocket had more than made up for the weight.

Planning the proposal, as it turned out, was much more complicated than he'd expected.

Initially, Sonny had wanted to propose to Rafael at the theatre where he'd taken his first and only star turn. But the Jane Street Theatre was only a memory now, replaced by boutique hotel rooms. He could've done it in the lounge, but it hardly screamed romance. And Rafael deserved romance.

Frustrated by his plans being scuppered by Manhattan hoteliers, Sonny turned elsewhere. Another theatre would have to do.

The squad managed to talk him down from his renting-a-whole-theatre plan. Rafael, contrary to popular belief, was not an ostentatious man. He'd just as soon accept a proposal at the park, or in the gentle wee hours of the morning. Sonny was reminded of this when he'd excitedly revealed his big idea to his friends only to be met with kind looks, but one's that definitely told him he was going too far. Nothing wrong with going to the theatre, but maybe renting the entire place was a bit much.

So he rolled back, completely deleting the document on his phone he'd used to amalgamate his scattered thoughts. Starting with a fresh digital page, he titled it "Proposal Plan 5.5" and started to type.

Studio 54 ended up being his saviour. Sondheim Unplugged was once again back at 54 Below, and Sonny bought tickets without even looking at the price. The same composer from their first date? It would be idiotic to ignore it. For the event, he got his best suit tailored, even if the end product looked almost identical. On the actual day of, Sonny made sure to have a fresh haircut and a proper, professional shave. 

Rafael's confusion over a seemingly out-of-the-blue Date Night was easily forgotten once he learned where they'd be going. Sonny noticed, once they'd arrived, that Rafael had matched the colour of his pocket square with the curtains draped behind the stage. Whether it was coincidental or not, Sonny found it incredibly endearing. 

"Kind of tucked away," Barba remarked as they sat down at their corner table. "Can you even see the stage?"

"It's fine. I'm fine, don't worry." Sonny flashed him a smile. He wasn't fine, actually. He was a bundle of nerves, his stomach roiling dangerously while the little box in his pocket burned white-hot against his shirt. He could feel his sweat starting to dissolve his hair mousse.

After a few drinks, the first song started and Sonny reached out to take hold of Rafael's free hand. The other man smiled, but never took his eyes from the stage. Sonny could almost see the string tugging him towards the performance.

He let the music wash over him, never taking his gaze away from the enraptured look of pure delight that shone freely on his love's face.

"Looklooklook!" Sonny nudged Rafael's shoulder with his own and jutted his chin out to point across the room. Chief Dodds was trying his very best not to be noticed, secluded away in a dark corner much like Sonny and Rafael were. He had a hint of a smile on his lips and his head was tilted to converse with the woman he was sharing dinner with.

Rafael chuckled, able to be fully present with his boyfriend now that there was a lull on stage while the performers took a break. "You shouldn't be surprised," he said. "This is probably his version of a strip club - getting a fix and trying to stay as anonymous as possible."

"You got a lot of experience with strip joints, Counselor?" Sonny teased, getting up from the table.

"I prosecute sex crimes, Detective," he deadpanned. His dry humour earned him a quick kiss before Sonny legged it over to the bar.

Rafael watched him catch the bartender's attention with a little wave and rattle off his order before returning. He graciously accepted his refill, taking the already sweating glass from his boyfriend's grip. He quirked an eyebrow at the smirk on Sonny's lips, and at the way he kept glancing to the side. Rafael knew that little look all too well.

"What did you do?" Barba asked, now with both eyebrows raised.

Sonny once again tipped his head in the direction of Chief Dodds, the smirk curling into a tongue-touched grin. Rafael was shot through with a warm affection; those dimples would be the death of him one day. He flicked his gaze to the little table just in time for a waiter to set down a pair of tall glasses swirling with golden cocktails. He could have sworn there was glitter in them. Both men watched as Dodds and his companion confusedly thanked the waiter and followed her gesture towards Sonny, answering the unasked question of who had sent the drinks over.

The woman was delighted, lifting her glass to Sonny and Rafael with a smile before indulging. Dodds, on the other hand, was staring at the drink like it might explode at any minute. Pulling his impressively furrowed brow from the table, he fixed the pair with a stony face, his head tipping in a short show of recognition.

The light was low, but Barba would have bet his favourite pair of suspenders that the Chief's ears had turned pink.

"The hell did you send him?" He asked, leaning into Sonny a little as the performers started making their way back to the stage for the second half of the night.

"They've got musical themed cocktails going on right now." Sonny looked like the cat who got the cream. Rafael had noticed the names in passing when they'd first ordered - he'd thought the citrusy and stormy Ti Moune had sounded particularly tempting.

"And do I want to guess what one you sent Dodds' way - who, I'll remind you, is very much your boss?"

"Luck be a Lady."

Sonny didn't even try to hide his laugh when Rafael choked and sputtered on his own drink. The detective clinked his bottle against his boyfriend's glass (while also thumping gently at his back) before raising it to toast Chief Dodds, the beam of his grin never leaving his lips.

Rafael had assumed they'd go straight home after the show, but Sonny insisted they take a walk through the park.

"It's a nice night," he said, taking Raf's hand into his and pulling the man along the trail. 

"It can still be a nice night at home, in bed." Barba let his eyes roam pointedly over Sonny's frame. Sonny merely laughed and tucked Rafael closer to his side.

Rafael was eventually plunked down onto a bench in a secluded little pocket of the park. Sonny made himself comfortable next to his partner and reached out to rest his arm across the other's shoulders.

The silence stretched comfortably, with both men lulled into an easy calm by the gentle sound of their breathing, the whisper of wind in the leaves, the trickle of a rivulet hidden somewhere among the trees.

It was Rafael that broke the quiet. As was often the case; he could only stand silence for so long. 

"Thank you for tonight. It was nice to get out. The last few cases have been..."

"I know." Sonny gave the man's shoulder a short squeeze of comfort. "It was pretty lucky I got those tickets, eh?" He could feel the nerves from earlier in the night beginning to return. His leg started to jiggle and a tingle was entering his fingers. "I love you, Raf. You know that, right?"

"Of course I do, Sonny," Rafael said with a chuckle, turning his head to give Sonny a small smile. But he noticed the underlying fear in the younger man's eyes. Rafael's brows pinched together with concern. "What's this all about? What's wrong, querido?" 

"Nothing. Really, I promise." Sonny was quick to reassure. He twisted on the bench and moved to the pavement. Before he even realised it, he was on his knee in front of a very bewildered Manhattan ADA.

"Sonny, what're you-" he trailed off when the man in question shakily brought forth the black velvet box that he had been carrying in his pocket for what felt like an eternity.

"Rafael," Sonny started, popping open the box to reveal gold and opal. "I had this whole big speech planned, I promise, but I-" he broke off to finally fully look into Rafael's eyes. Green met blue and both men's hearts stuttered. 

"I love you, Rafael Barba. I've loved you since I first saw you and you insulted that damn moustache I was so proud of." A nervous laugh left him without permission. He ploughed on. "The fact that I get to have this - that I get the privilege of having you - is the first thing I thank God for every day." Rafael watched as Sonny drew in a deep breath and noticed the box was no longer trembling in his grip. Tears began to prickle in eyes and he could see that Sonny was already ahead of him on that front. Rafael gave the man a watery smile.

"I want to spend the rest of my life waking up next to you, il mio Orsetto. And I don't want to waste any more time second-guessing, because I know you're it. I know this, us, is everything I'll ever need." Sonny lifted the box a little higher. "So, Rafael Alvaro Barba, will you marry me?"

For a second, Sonny thought Rafael might say no, or say nothing at all and book it from the park like his life depended on it. Instead, eventually, after a horrifyingly long few seconds, a halting nod began. Rafael's head bobbed up and down a few more times before his smile burst into a laugh and he reached out to cup Sonny's face in his hands.

He placed a warm kiss on the younger man's lips and pulled back to press their foreheads together gently.

"I would love to marry you, Domenico, mi Girasol."

The ring was slid on with a holy reverence, and when Sonny was done he kissed it lightly - an extra promise - holding Rafael's hand as if it were the most delicate relic on the planet.

That night, as Sonny was curled around Rafael's deeply sleeping body, his eyes wandered to the crack in the door. They'd left it open in their hurry to get under the covers.

The hallway that led to the main living area of the apartment was short but wide, which left Rafael (and now Sonny) lots of room for decoration. His sleepy gaze found the frame affixed nearest to where the apartment split into that uniquely New York chopped-and-screwed layout.

When Sonny had first moved in, Rafael had been quick to invade the various boxes that contained his life. Flipping through old books, laughing at the multitude of silly photos of Sonny with his family and the ones with his Fordham buddies, critiquing his spice collection, and even throwing out a mug or two ("Sonny, they're cracked to all hell. Do you like drinking bacteria?).

The last box that Sonny had brought over was a small, sturdy Rubbermaid. He had delicately placed it on the coffee table, with Rafael eyeing it curiously from his deep-seated armchair.

"Is this where you tell me you're a serial killer and those are all your victim tokens?"

They weren't. If Sonny ever became a sequential murderer, he'd hide his momentos much better. The box contained, instead, his multitude of playbills. Sonny's collection had grown from childhood, having saved every program from every show he'd ever seen - from high school to community theatre to professional. 

Rafael had taken one look at the contents of the box before reaching out to pull the younger man in for a kiss, not a word passing between them. He'd later retreated to his bedroom, slid out a tatty album book from the cluttered bookshelf there, and presented it to Sonny. 

The next day their combined collection had needed four separate display frames. And even then there were a few that the couple had decided to put up individually - they were too precious not to be.

Sonny looked at them now, in between resting his palm over Rafael's chest to feel his heartbeat and pressing his nose into the crook of the sleeping man's neck to find comfort in his familiar warmth. 

The bright yellow sat starkly against the dark walls of their apartment. The playbills were nestled together side by side: one pristine and in mint condition, not a mark on it; the other, a little worn with age but no less vibrant, boasting the scribbled signatures of the original cast. 

The glass for the frame was archival quality, meant to preserve the contents from sunlight and decay. Rafael had splurged on it without a second thought, but refused to admit to himself the reason: that the show, in the end, was what brought him and Sonny together. He would never have thought himself to be anything even close to a sentimental man.

Rafael didn't know that Sonny knew about the specifics of the frame. The affection behind the purchase was enough, Sonny didn't need a declaration. He understood that Rafael's love took on many a different guise.

Sonny shifted as Rafael turned over in his sleep and buried himself into the taller man's arms. He breathed in, a sleepy smile curling his lips. 

His eyes drifted to Rafael's hand where it was tucked against his chest. The opal setting in the ring still somehow glimmered in the dark, greens and blues and shimmering pearlescent hues all tangled together. It was awkward, but Sonny managed to slide his own hand between their two bodies, pressing it close enough to feel the metal imprint into his skin. He let out a soft, happy little hum and dropped a kiss to Rafael's forehead.

As he fell asleep, the last thing that flitted across Sonny's gaze before he drifted off was the glitter of opal from his fiancé’s ring and the vibrant yellow playbill of the show that he would be forever indebted to. He exhaled one last contented sigh before he let sleep embrace him.

Chapter Text

Musical Theatre and Broadway

Leslie Odom Jr. appeared in SVU as recurring character Reverend Curtis Scott. On stage he is most well known for originating the role of Aaron Burr in Hamilton, for which he won the 2016 Tony Award for Best Actor in a Musical. He also appeared alongside Raúl Esparza in the Leap of Faith musical in 2012.

Jessica Phillips can be seen in SVU as recurring character ADA Pippa Cox. On stage she is known for being the original Marion in Priscilla Queen of the Desert (2011) and also for originating the role of Sheriff Marla McGowan opposite Raúl Esparza’s Jonas Nightingale in Leap of Faith (2012).

Christopher Sieber appeared in SVU 17.07, “Patrimonial Burden”, as Frank Baker, the father of the Dugger-esque reality TV clan. He is most well known on Broadway for originating the roles of Galahad in Spamalot (2005), Lord Farquad in Shrek The Musical (2008), Trent Oliver in The Prom (2018), and, most recently, Ernest Menville in Death Becomes Her (2024).

André De Shields appeared in two episodes of SVU (15.14 and 22.14) as Keys, the helpful unhoused gentleman. He is most widely known on the stage for his role as the original Wiz in The Wiz (1974), his lengthy career as a Broadway performer and choreographer, and his originating turn as Hermes in Hadestown (2019), for which he won the 2019 Tony Award for Best Featured Actor in a Musical. One of his more recent roles saw him as Old Deuteronomy in the ballroom-scene inspired revamp of Cats.

Patti Lupone is in one episode of SVU, 16.11 (alongside fellow well-known Broadway actor Jeremy Jordan). Lupone’s stage career is far too extensive to fit into a small paragraph, so I will instead just link her entire Playbill bio. It’s three time Tony winner (eight time nominated) Patti Lupone, people, what more needs to be said?

• https://playbill.com/person/patti-lupone-vault-0000068230

Carousel is a Rogers and Hammerstein musical that first opened on Broadway in 1945 at the Majestic Theatre. It would later go on to have nine additional productions as well as a 1956 film adaptation - in Cinemascope! My personal favourite version is the 2018 Broadway revival starring Joshua Henry and Jessie Mueller, with Lindsay Mendez winning the 2018 Tony award for Best Featured Actress in a Musical. The revival also won the Tony that year for Best Choreography. 

• The entire cast album can be listened to here: https://youtube.com/playlist?list=PLycQGoRl0aExZ6yFK-Fldlc5Fc-dgPy0u&si=oMPkftx5fEGWKvH_

Stage-dooring is a common act done by fans after a show lets out, in which they will wait at the backstage door in the hopes that their favourite performers will emerge and take photos/sign autographs and the like. Most fans who stage-door are lovely.

Spiderman: Turn off the Dark was an absolute shambles of a show. It went millions over budget, had a revolving door of casting, and a score composed by U2. During its limited run, six people were injured, including a man who fell 21 feet due to an improperly connected harness (he came back to the show after rehab), and another man who suffered “leg trauma” after being pinned under a piece of equipment. I beg of you to read the Wiki for Turn off the Dark, it’s such a journey. One guy broke both his wrists at one point.

Starlight Express is an anthropomorphic train-based musical written by Andrew Lloyd Webber and Richard Stilgoe because Webber wanted to make Thomas the Tank Engine musical but couldn't get the rights. It initially started on the West End in 1984 before moving to Broadway in 1987 (which won the Tony for Best Costume Design). The whole thing is performed entirely on roller skates. There’s a theatre in Germany that was purpose built for the show, the Bochum, and performances of Starlight Express have been consistently running at it since 1988. 

• The original cast album can be found here: https://youtube.com/playlist?list=OLAK5uy_lhGiuCdTxzxLSx65nyEZHwAy6h9Rs-NI8&si=MW2Fr7re1x-_GmJi 

Kiss Me Kate is a musical interwoven with William Shakespeare’s Taming of the Shrew, with music and lyrics by Cole Porter and a book by Bella and Samuel Spewack. It debuted on Broadway in 1948, winning the Tony for Best Musical in 1949. The 2019 Broadway revival production (featuring Mr. I Don’t Dance, himself, Corbin Bleu) gave the show “minor feminist updates” to make it “more accessible to modern audiences”. 

• The revival album is here: https://youtube.com/playlist?list=PLcvFO4lyuy_tbGkDHThmIw8gMDoVWg36t&si=eOagYuRa3w8Nkm5b 

RENT and Tick… tick BOOM! were both born from the mind of composer, lyricist, and writer Jonathan Larson . While RENT is best known and most loved, being played around the world and having had a successful film of it made, Tick… tick recently got its time in the sun. The “revival cast” I mention in the text is entirely fictional, but there was a popular four performance Encores! run of it starring Lin Manuel Miranda, Leslie Odom Jr., and Karen Olivo in 2014. A film of the musical, directed by Lin Manuel Miranda and starring Andrew Garfield, premiered in 2021. The lines that Sonny quotes to Rafael during their set-to are from the dialogue break in “See Her Smile”.

• The original cast album for RENT is here: https://youtube.com/playlist?list=PLU43A23AIcgP1_GlWai5YwjF1TF6H_6jL&si=uKFtPuZ58i4iC1gN 
• And the original cast album for tick… tick (starring Raúl Esparza as Jon) can be listened to here: https://youtube.com/playlist?list=PLNvpkRT3-T4IE3dt_BcpoPRfwQeGFyYjX&si=qnIhHP8NPdSbctcq 

Bridges of Madison County is a 2013/14 musical based on the novel (and film) of the same name. Written by Jason Robert Brown, with a book by Marsha Norman, it won the 2014 Tony awards for Best Original Score and Best Orchestrations. The original Broadway production starred Steven Pasquale and Kelli O’Hara. 

• Their cast album is here: https://youtube.com/playlist?list=PLO1tDG8ILB-WSg075h7mb2ZvP0xs81GI8&si=oBjGtVkMHbbn0_Pw 

Phantom of the Opera is one of Andrew Lloyd Webber’s best known musicals, based on the novel of the same name. Lloyd wrote the music, with lyrics by Charles Hart, and additional assistance from Richard Stilgoe. Phantom premiered on the West End in 1986 before moving to Broadway in 1988. It is the longest ever running show in Broadway history, bypassing its 10,000th performance in February of 2012, and has won multiple Tonys, including Best Musical. 

• The original cast recording is here: https://youtube.com/playlist?list=PL7W_dYeTF7pQps9-ldmNLuNTbzATsfmVu&si=Fk8-3FsZR-3xVzWu 

An American in Paris is a 2014/15 musical based on the 1951 film of the same name. The show draws its music from George and Ira Gerswhin and is often remembered for its captivating and elegant ballet-heavy choreography. 

• The entire 2015 cast album can be found here: https://youtube.com/playlist?list=PLM_1csaEG9kewZn1ILEa7g6OpD_4sDbpz&si=51oIG2XUD_i_hZRU 

Sunday in the Park with George, Company, Into the Woods, and Merrily We Roll Along are all from the musical theatre legend that is Stephen Sondheim. Instead of me desperately trying to condense the man’s life work into a paragraph, I will link both his Playbill bio (https://playbill.com/person/stephen-sondheim-vault-0000007373) and PBS bio (https://www.pbs.org/wnet/broadway/stars/stephen-sondheim/). I urge you to discover the world of the late, great Sondheim, you will not be disappointed. The specific song referenced, “Franklin Shepard Inc.”, is from Merrily We Roll Along and is sung by the character Charley about his friend and business partner. The recent 2023 Broadway revival starred Daniel Radcliffe, who won the 2023 Best Featured Actor in a Musical Tony, Jonathan Groff, who won for Best Actor in a Musical the same year, and Lindsay Mendez.

• Here is Radcliffe performing Franklin Shepard Inc.: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GRfOn3Ghpzk 
• And here is Raúl Esparza performing it at a celebration of Sondheim in 2007: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=l3RAF6jqOYc 

Guys and Dolls is a musical that pulls from two short stories by author Damon Runyon, while also borrowing characters and plot points from some of his other works. With music and lyrics by Frank Loesser, and a book by Jo Sweling and Abe Burrows, the show opened on Broadway in 1950. At the 1951 Tony Awards, Guys and Dolls swept the competition, winning not only Best Musical, but also Best Leading Actor in a Musical, Best Leading Actress in a Musical, Best Choreography, and Best Direction of a Musical. Frank Sinatra and Marlon Brando famously starred in the 1955 film adaptation. The most successful North American revival of the show was the 1992 Broadway remount starring Nathan Lane as Nathan (the actor’s stage-namesake) and Peter Gallagher as Sky.

• The entire 1955 film version is available to watch here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FhNWjiXREkk&t=650s
• Here is the 1992 revival cast album in full: https://youtube.com/playlist?list=PLT2dytL40NGaDgiLRRdMpL7rkkWmpq8RS&si=BjqdaO4ES0mAtIf9
• And here is Peter Ghallager (Chief Dodds) performing Luck Be A Lady for the cast album: https://youtu.be/0RKhzWW9Uyk?si=-ZCAzBWk6PYveEf3 

Ethel Merman was posthumously called the “undisputed First Lady of the musical comedy stage”. She originated roles in Anything Goes, Annie Get Your Gun, Gypsy, Hello Dolly!, and countless others. Merman was known for her powerful, unique voice and incredible stage presence. Broadway and Ms. Merman go hand in hand.

Columbo, the beloved detective embodied by Peter Falk, had a knack for turning on his heel to ask a suspect “just one more thing”.

Floyd Collins is a musical written by Adam Guettel, with a book by Tina Landau, based on the true story of a man named Floyd Collins who died during the Kentucky Cave Wars after getting stuck in a narrow passage. It was initially Off-Broadway in 1996 after a premiere in Philadelphia in ‘94. It is currently playing on Broadway with a revival cast starring Jeremy Jordan (SVU 16.11) as the titular Collins. 

Legally Blonde: The Musical first premiered on Broadway at the Palace Theatre in 2007. It starred Laura Bell Bundy as Elle Woods and Christian Borle as Emmett Forrest (note the changed surname). Andy Karl (Sgt. Mike Dodds) played the famous UPS delivery man, Kyle “Walking Porn” O’Boyle, as well as other featured male ensemble. The songs mentioned in the text are “Whipped Into Shape”, in which exercise queen Brooke Wyndham and her minions intensely jump rope on stage for a lengthy period, and “So Much Better”, which Elle sings following her discovery that she got the law internship. 

• MTV filmed an entire OBC proshot that is available for free: https://youtu.be/RiX-EJA8n4w?si=2qfnDaX2rIpI1K_E 
• And the whole original Broadway cast album can be found here: https://youtube.com/playlist?list=PLaHwSBnw447p67Dcuf1FZukgj6Wnm0qK2&si=d_n_Rm9Igvw0R1Hd 

A Bronx Tale is based on both the one-man-show and the movie by the same name. It’s Chazz Palminteri’s book with music by Alan Menken and lyrics by Glenn Slater. It chronicles the story of Calogero, a young boy in New York’s Little Italy, as he navigates through love, loyalty, and Mafioso. It opened on Broadway in 2016, starring Bobby Conte Thorton and Ariana DeBose. The song referenced in the text is “Nicky Machiavelli”, the closest thing to a villain song the show has, in which Calogero’s Capo, Sonny, lays out the laws of the land.

• The full cast album can be found here: https://youtube.com/playlist?list=PLRp96qOTsZe056OYbfWlY4w3HNkpNtQMg&si=V6bT_jIFRilFgZhj

It Shoulda Been You got its Broadway debut in 2015. Telling the tale of a Jewish family blending with a gentile family, Shoulda explores ever changing dynamics, comedically opportune wedding planners, and a double reveal that surprises even the most seasoned of theatre go-ers. It had an amazingly star-studded cast, including Tyne Daly, Chip Zien, and Harriet Harris, but didn't manage to get any Tony nominations.

• The full original cast album is here: https://youtube.com/playlist?list=PLIryWjZPFDCMOQaa79ODwCFd-DKhAhIht&si=McPI-LpcVPowphDB 

Chest/Mix/Head voice simply refers to where a singer is pulling from. Head voice often goes along with a falsetto whereas chest or mix is more usually used for belting and sustaining.

Camelot, based on the Arthurian legends, came to Broadway in 1960. Starring Julie Andrews and Richard Burton, the production won four Tony awards the following year, including Best Leading Actor in a Musical and Best Costume Design. Since its first run, Camelot has boasted many revivals, Broadway and West End alike, with the most recent being in 2023 and starring Philippa Soo as Guenevere. 

• The original Broadway cast album is available here: https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLQn-r6d_3ojnR3lURK_bwM2FOks4DoPX4 

Man of La Mancha was adapted from a non-musical 1959 teleplay, which was inspired by the famous Miguel de Cervantas novel, but book writer Dale Wasserman consistently stated that the work was not meant to be a faithful rendition of the tale. It premiered on Broadway 1965 with Richard Kiley and Irving Jacobson. The 2002 Broadway revival, starring Brian Stokes Mitchell, is one of the better known productions of the show, with “The Impossible Dream” being the most well-known song.

• The original cast album is here: https://youtube.com/playlist?list=PLAvaU3_mtYe8feZc9HpRNbboW66HI1gRj&si=kj3sV8BUF8IzVTMN 

Les Misèrables is a Claude-Michel Schönberg and Alan Boubil musical based on the Victor Hugo book of the same name. It was originally written in French before they translated it into English and it became one of the best known musicals of all time. It first opened in Paris in 1980 before moving to London with the English version and premiering at the Barbican in 1985, starring Colm Wilkinson as Jean Valjean, Roger Allam as Javert, and Patti Lupone as Fantine. Les Mis would later move to Broadway in 1987, with Wilkinson returning. It has amassed a lengthy award list over the years, including the 1987 Tonys for Best Musical, Best Original Score, and Best Book of a Musical. Many people have a favourite Valjean and will defend them with their lives. Alfie Boe was Valjean for the O2 25th Anniversary Concert in 2010 and Ramin Karimloo took up the mantle in the 2014 Broadway revival.

• The original London cast recording is here: https://youtube.com/playlist?list=PL1zJVKpP93fGhln5cdjYDwGzOd0bxeLNA&si=rn4CFZ6ZY9v5jjud 
• And the original Broadway one is found here: https://youtube.com/playlist?list=PL5NG2eg5ephn1ajUWluDQ-MsF5pEq0iTM&si=-DecFbnzLDM20j9p 

The Music Man is a 1957 musical by Meredith Willson that follows con man Harold Hill, who pretends to be the organizer of boys’ bands in order to dupe money out of the residents of an unsuspecting small town Iowa community. Marian, the local librarian and piano teacher, sees right through him, but the pair inevitably fall together following Hill’s eventual change of heart. The original Broadway run starred Robert Preston and Barbara Cook, and won multiple Tonys at the 1958 awards ceremony, including Best Musical, Best Actor in a Musical, and Best Featured Actress in a Musical. Two film versions were also made, one once again starring Preston with Shirly Jones as Mairan, in 1962; the other was a made-for-TV movie that had Matthew Broderick as Hill and Wicked alum Kristen Chewnoweth as Marian in 2003. A revival Broadway production starring Hugh Jackman and Sutton Foster was mounted at the Winter Garden Theatre in 2022 to... mixed reviews.

• The original cast album can be listened to here: https://youtube.com/playlist?list=PLaHwSBnw447qTv9nA3KSvtmD_wWvgJEHh&si=YVcjvq_1EI-9DGDl 
• The song that Barba performs is “Trouble”, one of the best known patter songs from the show. Robert Preston’s film version can be watched here: https://youtu.be/LI_Oe-jtgdI?si=tpNik8qzH6EYZTUL 

Raggedy Ann: The Musical Adventure gained a cult following after its failure to thrive on Broadway in the 1980s. The story revolves around a little girl named Marcella, who is dying after suffering from psychological trauma due to her mother running away with another man which drove her father to drink, and her dog trying to kill her pet bird, which killed them both. Marcella is brought along on an adventure by her own toys to visit the Doll Doctor in the hopes that he can fix her broken heart. 

• The Broadway demo album is available here: https://youtube.com/playlist?list=PLT69yaXj-X8bimwTrClEMGvCWK-PIZ2UK&si=N4oNd8SRNNsU8sO- 
• The full 1984 original ESIPA production can be watched here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nKPIhcrHb9Q 

Bye Bye Birdie first opened on Broadway in 1960 starring Dick Van Dyke and Chita Rivera, and is heavily influenced by when Elvis Presley was drafted into the army in 1957. The main character, Conrad Birdie, is about to be sent off for the Draft and is set to record one more song before leaving. Set in small town Ohio, Birdie is a collection of hijinks, romance, fangirls, and huffy parents. The original production was a great success on Broadway and won the 1961 Tony award for Best Musical, among others. The show was adapted as a film in 1963, with Van Dyke returning to his stage role. It is a very popular pick for high schools, often running in the same circles as Grease.

• The original Broadway cast album is here: https://youtube.com/playlist?list=PLlzxFKnXc_Gw4HHHjObixs8xtaEuPmMNN&si=jwSGFqWKFuJO_ibd 

Norma Desmond is the main focus of the Andrew Lloyd Webber musical Sunset Boulevard. Originated on Broadway in 1993 by Glenn Close, Desmond is a faded star of the silent screen, desperate to regain her fame while living in a decaying mansion in Los Angeles. Romance and tragedy follow her tale as she meets young screenwriter, Joe Gillis, and he is drawn into her macabre world. As far as I’m aware, a puppet version of the character has never been used in a production, but it would certainly make the show even creepier, and I wouldn’t be surprised if someone eventually made it happen.

• The original cast album is in full here: https://youtube.com/playlist?list=PLNG_Ya4mK7HcI93s3VXqMadVRYEnwZTAW&si=poPBv1jnc62VLOQW 

MisCast is, to pull the description directly from the event’s website, a “one-night-only musical spectacular featuring Broadway’s hottest stars performing songs from roles in which they would not traditionally be cast”. Raúl Esparza has performed at MisCast multiple times over the years, including a duet of “A Boy Like That” from West Side Story, with Lin Manuel Miranda.

• The duet can be watched here: https://youtu.be/NOoKi6q9ZXE?si=jhlhFYf2SogWRUmL 

The performance of “Come to Your Senses” that I gave Barba for his own MisCast performance is, in actuality, one that Esparza himself did at MisCast22. 

• It can be watched here: https://youtu.be/tE01CGNwupo?si=FXLVB29INNvOXFaj 

At MisCast25, Esparza performed an incredibly energetic cover of “Defying Gravity” from Wicked to end the whole evening. This is what is referenced in the karaoke scene.

• It can be found in full here: https://www.tumblr.com/dotrousersmatter/781623127980523520/where-is-my-broom-ra%C3%BAl-esparza-closes-out?source=share 

Bernadette Peters is yet another grand star of Broadway. Much like with Lupone, her career is far too lengthy and robust to summarize so I will just link her Playbill bio. Peters is a three time Tony award winner and is known most famously for her work with Stephen Sondheim, specifically Sunday in the Park and Into the Woods. She's a legend, people.

• https://playbill.com/person/bernadette-peters 

Dogfight is a Pasek and Paul musical, with a book by Peter Duchan. It premiered Off-Broadway in 2012 at the Second Stage Theatre starring Lindsay Mendez and Derek Klena. It tells the story of Eddie, a freshly minted Marine, and his band of friends, on their last night before shipping off to Vietnam. They all decide to host a Dogfight, where the Marine with the “ugliest date” wins the pot. Eddie invites Rose, a shy waitress, only to later regret it when he finds himself feeling sorry for his deception. While it didn’t remain on Broadway for long, the show had success in Europe.

• The full cast album can be listened to here: https://youtube.com/playlist?list=PLx6FV48kwNQBatZfHU148__TsoOG0kZFe&si=Ci-syXV4xBgDokbA  

Groundhog Day is a musical re-telling of the 1993 film of the same name. With music and lyrics written by Tim Minchin, well known for his stage-musical adaptation of Matilda, and a book by the original screenwriter, Danny Rubin. The show got its Broadway debut in 2017, starring Andy Karl and Barrett Doss. Karl would later reprise his role of Phil Connors in the 2023 London Revival and the 2024 Melbourne production.

• The cast album can be listened to here: https://youtube.com/playlist?list=PL9zzAuAMkyhvF781J5fcrG2RsJ-XF3fFm&si=dAT_5ZZ2t3x211Bf 

Jersey Boys is a jukebox musical chronicling the rise and fall of the 1960s rock and roll group, The Four Seasons. More specifically, it follows Frankie Valli, the band's de facto leader. A production being a jukebox musical means it uses songs already written, usually contemporary music, like Mamma Mia or Ain’t Too Proud. Jersey Boys utilizes the lengthy discography of the Four Seasons to tell their story. The show officially opened on Broadway in 2005, starring John Lloyd Young as Valli, a role that would earn him the award for Best Actor in a Musical at the 2006 Tonys. The production also won Best Musical, among others.

The original cast album can be listened to here: https://youtube.com/playlist?list=PL-ct6_xJ6XZ8bkT3-twIBejcb8jZEgr68&si=nBIQOXweuWOFnetL 

Cell Block Tango is a song from the 1975 Kander and Ebb musical Chicago. It is the best known song from the show and has been performed countless times by a veritable cornucopia of people. It’s a six person song, so attempting it with three would certainly be a feat. One of my favourite performances is from the 2015 MisCast show, starring the likes of Jeremy Jordan, Joshua Henry, and Leslie Odom Jr., among others.

The MisCast performance can be watched here: https://youtu.be/yL9f_L-s8GQ?si=txfby6ZACbgnOK4a  

The original Broadway version of the song is available here: https://youtu.be/ly3ccyTI-Js?si=o3L69nW9fwBXQBGd  

Studio 54 is both a Broadway theatre and a nightclub stationed in Midtown Manhattan. It also was home to a CBS broadcast studio in the mid-20th century after having been an Opera House for many years. It officially became the Studio 54 club in 1977, and was infamous for its celebrity guest list, extravagant events, and general hedonism. After some years of misfortune, The Roundabout Theatre company got their hands on the space and renovated it in 1998, specifically so as to relocate their production of Cabaret. The main theatre is paired with two sister cabaret venues: Upstairs 54 (since 2001), and 54 Below in the basement (since 2012). In 2023, 54 Below announced its transition to a nonprofit organization.

Ti Moune is the main character in the 1990 musical based on a 1985 novel. The story follows Ti Moune, a peasant girl who falls in love with an upper class man from the other side of the island that they both live on. It's a take on life, pain, love, and grief, and is often narrated by the four ruling gods of the island. 

The original cast recording can be found here: https://youtube.com/playlist?list=PL8kGVRxjiar1TH1Dup4Jy3PyH0bzHnh0C&si=1FWKqQbWg5SXLb6l  

And the heavily praised 2017 revival cast album is available here: https://youtube.com/playlist?list=PLaHwSBnw447pCDNACrLxpImFCLf-C4goY&si=z-NOGqRNy3L2RG7e 

Italian-ness, Translations, and Other

Pasta alle vongole is just any pasta dish “with clams”. It originates from the coastal regions of southern Italy. Traditional recipes usually use spaghetti or bucatini noodles.

Baccalà literally translates to “salted codfish”. Specifically, codfish that’s been salted, hung to dry, and then reconstituted in water before being cooked in a red sauce. It is often seen on the table at the traditional Christmas Eve “Feast of the Seven Fishes”. Preparing baccalà, even just reheating it, fills any room with an instant fish smell - this extends to keeping it in the fridge. My Dad is permitted one day a year to make it in the house and we all make plans to be out whenever that day comes.

Nipoti is a direct translation for “Grandchildren”.

Digestivi, or the singular “digestivo”, are after-dinner drinks meant to settle the stomach and help with digestion. Hence the name. The two I referenced are the ones my family partake in: Fernet-Branca and Millefiori. The first is a specific brand of fernet, which is a style of amaro (bitters). It’s gross as all get out and you can smell the bottle being opened from across the room. My Dad swears by it when he has an upset stomach but I’m convinced it’s just so bad that it beats his stomach into submission once it reaches it. The second is a sweeter, herby liqueur that the older women on my Dad’s side will occasionally bring out, but not often - its main draw is the fact that every bottle has a full twig in it. 

Garage wine is a staple of any Italian immigrant grandparent home. My Nonno and Nonna decanted theirs into old 7-Up bottles. The 7-Up is also used to dilute the wine because it’s just that potent - it took my Mum many years before she realised my Uncle brought his own wine because even he knew his parents’ could strip paint. Giving diluted wine to kids is pretty normal depending on the occasion - I think my Dad was seven the first time he was allowed some. The garage is also used for pitting olives and skinning/butchering animals. The things that that garage has seen…

Brio is a brand of Chinotto, which is an Italian soda made from the fruit of the myrtle-leaved orange tree. It’s like a bittersweet cola, pretty much. Brio is a Canadian brand out of Toronto, but I’m sure you can likely buy it in the States too.

“Otranto è sempre home, bambino." translates to “Otranto is always home, child/boy.”.

"America è buona per money, ma non per l'anima.” translates to “America is good for money, but not for the soul.”. 

“Al villaggio” translates to “to the village”.

“Otranto è il paradiso in terra.” translates to “Otranto is Heaven on earth.”.

Froci is the literal Italian translation for “fags”. You might recall the late Pope Francis using a longer version of the term in response to a question about gay men entering the seminary that went rather viral.

Cerignola olives are the ones I grew up eating and are my favourite of all the olives. They’re on the bigger side and are served fresh green with full pits or cured black, usually as a table olive. It’s very easy to eat a whole tub in one go and then regret it immediately.

“¿Cuánto tiempo?” translates to “How long?”. 

“¡Como un girasol que te sigue!” translated into English is as follows: “Like a sunflower that follows you!”.

The ring, in my mind, looks like this but set with this kind of stone . I like to think that once they get married, Sonny’s ring matches but it’s a green opal instead. And maybe they each get another setting put into their rings to add the other’s stone in too. I could go on for days. I'm soft for eye colours, what can you do?