Chapter Text
Amanda was leaving SVU, she had told Liv a couple days ago, and Liv didn't take it well. They had been at a motel Liv was staying at so Noah could get to know a half brother he had found.
Amanda told Liv about the job she had been offered at Fordham and when Liv got upset, Amanda just left.
Now it was Monday and they were back at work, Liv sat at her desk, she placed a call to Amanda and left a voicemail. “Hey, Amanda, it's me, please, please, please call me back. Ok?”
As she hung up the phone Amanda walked into her office.
“I'm sorry I left like that.” Amanda said.
“I completely understand. You were being open with me and I completely shut down,”Liv said.
The two friends talked, clearing the air between them.
Before Amanda left they tearfully hugged. Through the tears Liv said to Amanda, “don't postpone joy.”
Amanda pulled back and looked at her, “you too. Don’t postpone joy, Liv.”
The moment Rollins stepped into the elevator and the doors slid shut, the air in the squad room shifted. Too quiet. Too hollow. Olivia stood there staring at the empty space Amanda had occupied seconds ago, her parting words settling somewhere deep in Olivia’s chest.
“Don’t postpone joy, Liv.”
Olivia had smiled when Amanda said it, even joked back. But the second Rollins disappeared behind metal doors, the smile slipped, leaving something raw and exposed beneath it.
She walked slowly back to her office, fingers brushing the glass door, pausing when she felt the weight of the moment pressing on her shoulders.
She closed the door behind her.
The room was dim except for her desk lamp, giving everything a warm, amber glow. Case files sat in neat stacks, half-finished reports waiting for her signature. But Olivia didn’t look at any of it.
Her gaze fell to her phone.
Rollins’ words echoed again, softer now, like a whisper inside her ribs.
Don’t postpone joy.
For so long, Olivia had lived in a place between survival and responsibility. Joy was something she permitted for others, encouraged in her victims, fought for with the children who passed through her squad. But herself? She had always been cautious. Too cautious.
Her thumb hovered over a familiar name.
Rafael Barba.
The name alone conjured too much—years of partnership, friction, warmth, betrayal, regret, and something deeper she had forced herself not to examine too closely. Because wanting him had always felt like lighting a match inside a room lined with gasoline.
But the truth was simpler, sharper:
She missed him.
She had been missing him for months, maybe longer. And she was tired—tired of pretending she didn't reach for her phone at night. Tired of pretending that the space he left in her life didn’t ache.
She took a breath, steadying herself.
And pressed Call.
The line barely rang once.
“Liv?” His voice was warm, surprised. Like he’d been waiting without allowing himself to hope.
Her heart swelled at the sound. “Hey.”
A soft exhale crackled through the speaker. “Is everything—are you all right?”
She closed her eyes. “I just… didn’t want to postpone this anymore.”
Silence. Then something in his voice that broke gently open. “I’m glad you called.”
They talked for only a few minutes—quiet, tentative, familiar. When she hung up, Olivia found herself staring out her office window at the skyline, pulse humming, breath uneven.
She told herself she would go home soon.
She didn’t.
She was halfway through gathering her things when a soft knock came at her door.
Olivia’s heart jumped.
She opened it—
And Rafael Barba stood there.
Not in a courtroom suit. Not composed and polished. His tie was loose, coat unbuttoned, hair ruffled by the wind. His cheeks were flushed from the cold or the rush or both.
“Rafael?” Her voice came out a whisper.
He offered a small, shy smile. “You called,” he said simply. “And I… didn’t want the night to end with a phone call between us.”
The warmth in her chest spread slowly, carefully. “You came all the way up here?”
“You sounded like you needed someone.” His tone softened. “And I—”
He hesitated, eyes searching hers.
“I needed to see you.”
Olivia swallowed hard. She felt like the floor had shifted under her feet. Not in a frightening way. In a dizzying one.
“Come in,” she said, stepping aside.
He moved past her, eyes flicking over the office, then back to her. The silence was comfortable, charged, familiar.
“You didn’t have to come,” she murmured.
“Yes, I did.” He said it without bravado, without dramatics—just truth. “Liv… you’ve spent so long showing up for everyone else. Let me return the favor.”
Her breath hitched. He saw it. He always did.
“You okay?” he asked softly.
She nodded, the truth settling somewhere deep. “I think I am. Right now.”
He stepped closer, slow enough to give her space to pull back. She didn’t.
His hand reached out for hers—hesitant, gentle. Olivia’s fingers brushed his sleeve first, shy, uncertain. Then he covered her hand with his own.
Warm. Familiar. Steady.
“If you want me to go,” he said quietly, “just say the word. I won’t push.”
Olivia breathed, her chest tight with something that felt dangerously like hope.
“Stay,” she whispered.
Rafael closed his eyes for a brief second—just long enough for her to see the relief, the longing, the restraint.
“Then I’m here,” he murmured.
He stayed. Not pressed against her. Not invading her space. Just there. Fingers intertwined. Breathing the same air. Letting her set the pace.
For once, Olivia Benson allowed herself to choose something simply because she wanted it.
And she chose him.