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It had been a surprisingly quiet day for Oliva and her crew, so she took the opportunity to duck out of the squad early. Her version of early turned out to be after the three o’clock office exodus and before the five o’clock rush hour started. It was this reason that she found herself at loose ends and in front of the coffee kiosk closest to the office of her SVU’s assistant district attorney. While the barista whipped up her coffee order, she contemplated the freshly restocked triple fudge brownies. The last few times Barba had suggested drinks she had had to beg off for one reason and another and she was feeling bad about that. Truthfully, she was missing his sarcasm and wit, but she refused to examine that too closely, why ruin it. She was happy to have a best friend, she would leave it at that and not overthink.
What she had been examining were deeper lines around her friend’s mouth as if he had been frowning more often and that his face seemed drawn these days. Maybe if she had gone for drinks she would know by now what the worry was that had made him seem nearly haggard the last few weeks at work, the only place she had seen him. She’d also noticed that sometimes he seemed to have lost weight but then a few days later he would look like he’d put it back on. Yo-yo dieting was a deadly habit so she hoped she had imagined that. She nearly skipped the brownies and then thought to herself, hell with it, it was Friday and Noah was going to a sleepover that Lucy was dropping him off at, if Barba didn’t want the calories she would eat both with no guilt. She paid and once she had the drinks and the folded bag of treats firmly in a carrier, she made her way into the office block where she knew Barba would be still working regardless of the lovely late Spring weather on a glorious Friday afternoon. The rest of the world might be suffering cabin fever but not her friend, she was certain.
Olivia felt vindicated when she reached the nearly deserted floor where Barba’s office was located, even his assistant was gone though he was obviously not since his door was ajar a few inches and she could hear him muttering. Using the knuckles on her free hand she rapped on the door and as it eased open she followed, stopping short inside the door jamb. The sight that greeted her stopped her cold and choked the friendly greeting in her throat.
Rafael Barba stood in front of his desk with his suit jacket, tie, vest, and shirt off, laid aside on one chair before the desk. His suspenders hung down around his thighs and he wore only his dress pants and a tank style undershirt. Olivia noted internally that it was something her mother would describe as a wife-beater and the sheer inanity of the thought nearly made her roll her eyes but she couldn’t take them off his arms that were shown off nicely by the close fitting shirt, and there was a generous view of his chest that was equally distracting.
Without looking up he said, “I thought I told you to go home early, Carmen, did you forget something?” and he pulled something out of the box sitting open in the other chair in front of him.
Olivia did her best to get a grip on herself and shut the door behind her, leaning on it because she was sure she needed the support suddenly. She stood straight again and tried to inject some humour in her voice, “Nope, not Carmen but I come bearing coffee and sugar.” She held the coffee tray up in an effort to block at least some of the distracting sight of Rafael disheveled.
“Great, I need something to look forward to after fighting the Velcro on this torture device,” he said shrugging into what Olivia realized was body armor designed to go under clothing. “I shouldn’t bitch, it has to be better than the old one,” he continued as he slipped the vest on and started pressing the Velcro straps in place.
Olivia saw then a discarded vest on the couch, an older style of vest she hadn’t seen since her rookie days when she and her fellow recruits were required to wear them. Those old ones were well padded and she realized that Barba hadn’t been gaining and losing the same five pounds but had been wearing a bullet proof vest some days and not others. “Better?” she asked, “Did you get this one tailored?” She tried to laugh but couldn’t. The fact that he was wearing Kevlar wasn’t amusing in any way.
“Obviously not, it doesn’t match the suspenders.” His voice was as deadpan as any of his usual deliveries, but there was an edge under it, Olivia wondered if it was nerves or annoyance.
She stepped to the desk and sat down the coffee and then around in front of him, hands out in silent offer to help, she was familiar with the style of vest. He silently held his hands out to his sides, allowing her to unstrap the Velcro and then fit it better into place. She explained as she did that when it was time to take it off he could leave some straps in place making it easier, and faster, to get on and off again.
He picked up his shirt and pulled it on, buttoning it quickly then turned away from her. She heard the rasp of his zipper and he started tucking his shirt into his pants. Olivia turned and busied herself taking the coffees out of their carrier and sitting out the brownies on the napkins kindly provided by the barista. It was good to be a familiar face at the coffee counter she thought, smiling.
When she turned back Barba was mostly dressed again, rolling up the sleeves of his shirt, his vest and jacket still on the chair. His suspenders had tangled and when he pulled them back into place one was twisted. “Hang on Barba,” she said as he started to turn, “you have a twist there.” She reached out and pulled it off his shoulder and fixed it, smoothing it back where it belonged. He looked over his shoulder at her and smiled with a murmured ‘thank you’. Olivia nearly caught her breath, this felt so much more intimate than helping with the Kevlar while he was in his undershirt. It shocked her so she shook it off with a smile of her own. “All part of the Friday after five service, sir.” He smirked, turned and threw the now empty box off the chair and walked around her to his own behind the desk.
“To what do I owe the pleasure, as well as thanks for help dressing?” he asked as he inspected the brownie, checked the large R written on his coffee lid, and looked at her expectantly.
She was happy to sit, sipping her own coffee to delay an answer though she knew he would see through that. He knew her too well.
He sipped his own coffee and sighed, “You went to the good kiosk, thanks.”
“Of course, I do know your addictions.”
“What are you buttering me up for, you have a list of warrants you need at,” he checked his watch, “four fifty-five on a Friday?”
“Nope. Suspicious much?” She bit into the satisfyingly gooey brownie, still reluctant to admit her worry now that it seemed there was more reason for it than she realized. “What’s with the Kevlar, Counsellor?”
He glanced at the couch and then back to her, sipped his coffee because she was not the only reluctant one in the room. “TARU sent a new one over because that,” he lifted his chin at the offending vest, “is old, uncomfortable, and packs the pounds on faster than the television cameras.” Barba took a bite of his own brownie and nodded like it was her turn at the confessional.
“That doesn’t actually answer my question, but I’ll let it go for now,” her mock glare promised he would be explaining why the tech assistance division was adding to his usual sartorial choices. “I found myself with an evening free and thought I would share,” she realized how that sounded after she said it so added, “some coffee that is, and maybe a drink or some dinner?” She wasn’t sure that covered her inadvertent implication or made it worse so decided to shut up and eat more of her brownie.
Barba chuckled but Olivia wasn’t sure if it was at her for her poor choice of words or at the situation. “I wouldn’t try to hide the truth from you, Detective, I merely have lacked the chance to regale you with the sordid tale. Several assistant district attorneys have been sent what were determined to be credible threats, not to mention very real death threats to several judges and the DA, all from one organization. So, we all get to add to our wardrobe. You should have heard the argument Cutter and McCoy had about it. I thought they were going to come to blows.” He drank more coffee, licked the chocolate off his fingers and continued, “Did you know McCoy still rides his motorcycle to work? His security detail nearly had strokes, the lot of them.”
Olivia was still trying to breathe again after watching him lick his fingers which she was certain she had seen him do before considering this was not the first time they shared a meal or a snack or coffee. Something about this time though, watching as he sucked the melted chocolate chips from the brownie off his long fingers sent a zing down her spine and into places she would rather not contemplate. She blinked and hoped he missed the gap in the conversation. “You have a security detail?” she asked, getting her thoughts and body back on topic.
“Me? Hells no,” Barba rolled his eyes. “Judges and the DA get detailed, the rest of us just have to use ‘appropriate caution’,” he finger quoted the words that had obviously bothered him when instructed by the DA and other powers that be to wear a bullet proof vest and change their routines. “It’s ridiculous honestly, I wasn’t even mentioned by name this time.”
Olivia’s eyes went wide, and Rafael realized his mistake.
“Shit. I didn’t say that.”
“You did. You used your outdoor voice.”
Barba drank more coffee.
Olivia put hers down and leaned forward, elbows on the desk. It wasn’t the most intimidating posture she could take, but she did want his attention. “Barba, what lie of omission are you about to not tell me?”
“I’m not telling you anything you don’t know. I’ve had threats before.” He tried for nonchalance and achieved only petulance; a look he knew he didn’t carry well. He blew out a breath and looked her in they eye. “I have no reason to worry, no lie. I wasn’t involved with any of the cases this particular organization is bothered by. I just have to take precautions like everyone else on staff. And I have to avoid usual haunts or places I am known to frequent, you know, the usual change of routine stuff.” He picked his coffee up again and finished it, opening the lid and stuffing his now empty brownie napkin in it and popped the lid back on, throwing the whole lot in the trash. “So,” he stood and looked down at her still leaning forward on his desk, “you want to go have dinner somewhere we’ve never been?”
Olivia sat back, surprised to see she had finished her own brownie and when she picked up her cup it was empty. “It’s a little early for dinner, isn’t it?”
“Well, you do have a darling son at home who will want a bedtime story eventually.” He crossed his arms and leaned against the desk, hipshot. Olivia took him in, his arms crossed one over the other, his usual cocky self-confidence in place, that knowing smirk he seemed to always wear in her presence. She felt he was entirely too cavalier about the whole situation. His Kevlar, not her son.
“Nope. But we can go to my place and make a nice safe dinner in. Or yours assuming you have groceries in the refrigerator. And for your information, Noah is enjoying a sleepover and won’t be home until after lunch tomorrow.” She stood and leaned over the desk to drop her own empty cup and napkin in the trash.
They were still debating options for dinner when they reached the street and Barba raised one arm to hail a cab.
“Jesus, Rafa,” Olivia yelled and grabbed his arm, “I have an unmarked in the lot, come on.” She didn’t let go of his arm as she dragged him toward the city lot at the side of the building. She didn’t let go until she had unlocked the car and folded him into the front passenger seat with her hand on his head like he was a suspect she was transporting. She stalked around the hood of the car and slammed her door when she got in. And then they sat there in silence for a moment. “Everything from your navel down is vulnerable and a good marksman can get you in the heart through your armpit that is unprotected by Kevlar or anything else, not to mention a headshot or a throat shot will kill you just as fast. You have got to develop some situational awareness, Counsellor.”
Barba remained silent, to Olivia’s surprise. She finally looked over at him from the corner of her eye and saw he was staring blankly ahead.
“I’m sorry. I overreacted.”
“No, Olivia, you didn’t. I haven’t taken this seriously at all.” He turned in the seat to look at her. “I honestly didn’t think about it except how annoying it is to avoid friends and family and wear incredibly unflattering and chafing undergarments.”
That last surprised a laugh out of Olivia. “Yeah, Kevlar isn’t good for the figure or the skin. Try a full tee-shirt and it will chafe less. Or do what we did in the academy, cover the son-of-a-bitch with an old tee-shirt and some duct tape, and make sure the air conditioning in your office works. Summer in body armor is hellish.”
“No harm done, thank you for giving a damn.”
“Always, Barba.” Olivia smiled at him, “So where to?”
“I don’t care as long as there is scotch and you.”
Olivia let the comment slide and turned the key in the ignition.
Half an hour later they pulled into her parking spot behind her apartment.
“How did we end up here? It doesn’t take this long to get to your place.”
“I was watching for tails and all the things they teach us in defensive driving. Yeah it takes longer, but we for sure have nobody watching us. And I am not spending an evening in work clothes, or I’ll make you wear the Kevlar all night.”
“Ugh, no thanks, by all means please do whatever you like but let me out of the tin can please.”
“Right, then let’s go so I can change, the faster I change the faster we get to the scotch at your place.”
“I’m in. Or out as the case may be.” Rafael opened his door and they both hoofed it up to her apartment.
“Make yourself at home, you know where everything is. And if you are pouring the scotch that is on top of the fridge, pour me one, too, please.” Olivia disappeared down the hall to her bedroom, already shedding her coat and shoes at the front door.
Rafael heard the shower start so he poured a drink and snooped in the kitchen. The freezer revealed hot dogs and chicken nuggets and three flavours of ice cream, as well as some steaks that had been there long enough to become freezer burned. He returned them to the back where they had been hiding and ignored the fact that he had four flavours of the same brand of ice cream in his own freezer at home. The fridge revealed a crisper of vegetables that would make a fine salad that Noah would no doubt turn his nose up at, Rafael remembered hating salad at that age. He smiled when he saw the cupboard stocked with tuna and peanut butter and macaroni and cheese. The kitchen catered to the tastes of a small growing boy-child. He smiled and dug his phone out of his coat pocket that he had hung by the front door.
When he heard the shower stop, he poured a second glass of scotch and waited. Soon Olivia emerged scrubbed clean and wearing NYPD sweats and a tank top, carrying a sweatshirt and a couple of tee-shirts.
“I thought we could do some handicrafts later,” she held up the tee-shirts. “These have seen better days and I had put them in the rag box for house-cleaning. We can make your Kevlar a little more bearable.”
The thought of wearing Olivia’s castoffs against his skin did something in the pit of Rafael’s stomach that he didn’t want to examine too closely.
She went to a drawer in the kitchen and started rummaging through it. “I am sure I have some duct tape in here somewhere.”
“I actually own sleeved tee-shirts, Olivia, it’s just getting warm out and I save them for the colder weather. I can adjust.”
Did she look a little disappointed? He wondered. “But if you really want arts and crafts night, by all means, don’t let me stop your creative juices flowing.” Now she looked flushed and he thought about what he’d said. Oops. His outdoor voice was going to send him straight to hell. He picked up both glasses of scotch and handed her one, silently toasting and then taking a long drink. She stopped looking for tape long enough to drink with him, then went back to the drawer. At long last the tape was found in the very back of the junk drawer and she added that to the pile of shirts on the counter.
“Ready?” she asked.
“Why don’t you grab a toothbrush and we’ll have our own sleepover?”
“What?” Olivia choked on the last sip of scotch in her glass.
“I’m sorry, I wasn’t trying to proposition you. I have just been cooped up with my own company for weeks now, and, well, I like my own company but it gets tiring being only allowed to be at work or at home alone,” Rafael shrugged. “I have a guest room, and a guest bath. I promise your virtue is safe with me.”
“I won’t tell if you won’t.”
There was a sparkle in her eyes that made him wonder what she was promising not to tell, and he grinned in response.