Encouraged by @lovemesomerafael (thank you) I’ve returned to this. I’m enjoying a developing relationship that’s not just about smut.
A little recap. The ‘you’ in this story is a British producer in NYC to make a documentary about the DA’s office. She’s now been involved with Barba for a week or so and they can’t keep their hands off each other. But things are starting to get a bit more serious.
Catch up with the previous parts here. Most are NSFW. The driving force of this series is the sex, but the evolving relationship means not every chapter is explicit. Watch out for mild kink throughout (we know Barba’s a dom, naturally). Also, bad Spanish and lots of British English. Because I’m British.
Part One
Part Two
Part Three
Part Four
Part Five
Part Six
Part Seven
Word count for Part Eight: 3178
Warnings: None, this is SFW apart from references to their sexual relationship. British spellings.
Having reached a conclusion, between you, that a simple no-strings arrangement wasn’t going to work, there was clearly a need for a further conversation. You were glad this new understanding hadn’t created any tension, as you’d woken up together and parted for the day. But there was certainly an unspoken agreement that you should talk about it later. You were looking forward to it, and what might come of it. Whereas, in previous relationships, the idea of a deep and meaningful chat would’ve worried you, Rafael was so open, so honest, that were sure it wouldn’t be stressful. Besides, it had barely been a week that this has existed. You were still in ‘nothing to lose’ territory. Only you couldn’t imagine losing Rafael Barba. Certainly not any time soon.
As luck would have it, it was at that point that the Manhattan Special Victims Unit picked up a major case. A serial rape and attempted murder, and the squad needed their ADA. Not just to help with warrants and with piecing the crime together, but also to exert the pressure of offering deals to key witnesses. The first you knew of it was when he called you, after 5pm. You could hear the edge to his voice as soon as he spoke. Stress, yes. But also, perhaps, the excitement of a touch of adrenaline.
“Y/F/N?” his voice came through your phone. “I’m so sorry about this. I know we had plans. But this is a really major case, and I’m going to have to work late.”
You swallowed back the disappointment. It had, after all, been quite fortunate that he’d not been required to work long hours at all in this past week and you knew, from the interviews you’d conducted for the documentary, that sometimes his workload was pretty intense. If you were moving beyond ‘no strings’ then understanding this part of his life would be part of that. “Don’t apologise, it’s no problem,” you replied.
“We were going to talk though, weren’t we?” He sounded genuinely disappointed.
“Yes, we were. But it’ll wait, Assistant District Attorney Barba. I promise. Thing is, there’s not much to talk about.”
“There’s not?” Now he sounded concerned and you hurried to follow up before he misconstrued it.
“No. I mean…” You drew a deep breath. “I’d like us to be more to each other. I don’t want to see anyone else. It’s months before I have to leave New York. We can worry about that later. For now, I just want to keep seeing you…”
You’d said all the words very quickly, before you lost courage, and before he could respond. “You’re right,” he replied. “There’s nothing to talk about.”
Now you felt dismayed. “No?”
“Because I feel exactly the same.” Your heart beat faster, with pleasure and relief.
“I’m so glad,” is all you said.
“Me too. Look, I’m really sorry, I have to go. I won’t come over tonight, it’s going to be late and you have to work tomorrow. But maybe we can catch up over lunch, or something? Or tomorrow night. I’ll be thinking about you.”
“Me too,” you replied. “Let me know how it’s going.”
“I will. Have a good evening, cariño…”
“You too. Don’t work all night.” You heard the beep as he ended the call first. You tried to imagine him hurrying back into his office, or perhaps into an interview room, or Olivia Benson’s office at the precinct. You were glad you’d had a glimpse into that world at least, so you could picture what it was like. It was still hard to believe that the man you were now, it seemed to be agreed, in a relationship with was part of that world. Not only part of it, but a focal point of it, one of the people holding the power in it. You probably had no business doing it, but you felt proud of him, and it made you smile to yourself. It didn’t stop you missing him in your bed in the night, but at least another full night of sleep helped to redress the dark circles that had been a permanent feature this week.
As it turned out, you didn’t see him the following day either. During the working day, it didn’t matter so much, though it was quite bizarre to be working on plans for a documentary about the DA’s Office when your mind was so focused on one ADA in particular. Now you’d moved things up a level, you felt less of need for reassuring contact from him. You wanted to hear from him, but didn’t need it quite so desperately. He had texted in the late afternoon to let you know that he had to accompany the detectives over to New Jersey, to talk to a lawyer there who had some vital information, and that he would be back late again. He called at 8pm.
“Hey, cariño,” he said. He sounded tired.
“Hello! How’s it going?”
“I’m not sure, if I’m honest. It’s a complicated one. No one involved is free of some sort of legal complication. I’m basically having to decide who’s the most deserving of leniency and who’s the most worthwhile pursuing for a conviction. And no one wants to talk until we force their hand.”
“It sounds awful,” you said, barely able to comprehend what he was dealing with.
“Ah, don’t worry. It’s what I do, Y/F/N. It probably sounds worse from the outside. But I can’t see me getting home until late again tonight, and tomorrow morning we have to go up to Rikers to talk to an inmate there…”
“Rikers?” you exclaimed, feeling suddenly nervous. “The prison?”
“One and the same,” he said.
“Is that safe?” you demanded.
You heard him laugh gently, “if it makes you feel better, Liv is coming with me,” he said. “Anyway, I’ve been there before. Quite a lot, actually. I send people there all the time, you know.”
As he said it, you realised you still had a lot to learn about his work, the world he inhabited. It wasn’t just the precinct, his office, and the courthouse. You briefly thought that, of course, this was the reason he was worthy of a documentary feature. But you were also worried that he would think you were very naïve, very English, all of a sudden. “I know. I do understand, I just worry about you…”
“I like that,” he said, and it sounded genuine. “I’ll be safe, don’t worry. And hopefully I will see you in the evening, so you can check.”
“Can I check you from head to toe?” you asked, smiling.
“I think that’s exactly what you’ll have to do,” he replied. You grinned, and blushed, even though there was no one to see it. “The plan is to take care of that in the morning, then spend the afternoon at the precinct going over everything we have so far,” he said. “So you’ll know where I am. Then hopefully, I can finish on time, or near enough.”
“OK. Can’t wait to see you.” You tried to pour plenty of emotion into the words without sounding too clingy.
“Feeling’s mutal,” he said, then the call ended.
You thought about him the following morning, even Googling Rikers Island to learn a bit more about what he was experiencing. It was quite a surreal thought, as you read about the terrifying reality of the facility there, that Rafael – that caring, good humoured, stylish and affectionate man you were getting to know – was also the prosecutor responsible for sending people to such a place. You wondered if he ever thought about it, wondered if all his convictions were sound, worried about what those he condemned to jail were suffering. You hadn’t discussed his work that much, so far, outside of the interviews for the documentary. But you knew that justice – both legal and moral – were very important to him. There was, you guessed, little room for self-doubt in that. And, you suspected, he saw enough of crime not to empathise too much with those committed it.
That afternoon, the lead producer on the documentary let you finish work a few hours earlier than expected. The next step was to start filming, but with both Rafael and his SVU colleagues already embroiled in a case, it wasn’t good timing. The plan was to follow a case from start to end, and the production company were liaising with the DA’s office and the NYPD. You’d still not mentioned your growing relationship with Rafael at work. You guessed no one would mind, it hardly affected the documentary at all. But you didn’t want to be seen as a way around official channels when it came to filming, access to Rafael and his colleagues, or other information.
As you walked back towards your studio apartment, enjoying the chill in the air on what was otherwise a fine day, your mind was back on Rafael. You couldn’t help wondering that you were acting as though this was still a fleeting liaison. Waiting for him to have time for dinner, or to spend the night with you. Actually, you just wanted to see him, offer your support. Not wait until you could have a private few hours together. An idea planted itself in your mind. You took your phone out and sent him a quick text. “Still at the precinct?” You walked slower, waiting for a response.
His reply took about ten minutes. “Yes. Think it’ll be at least 6 before I get away.” You smiled, and didn’t respond, turning to head towards the subway, and downtown, rather than back to your apartment.
About an hour later, you retraced your previous journey into the NYPD precinct, and to where you’d met with Olivia Benson. It was more awkward this time, since you were carrying several boxes, all of which needed to be kept level.
“Y/N?” You heard a voice and looked up, seeing Sonny Carisi heading towards you, smiling, but with tired eyes. He was in shirt sleeves, his tie removed. “Here to find out if we’ve kidnapped Barba?”
You smiled back and blushed slightly. “I was worried you’d lost him at Rikers,” you said. “So I came to check.”
“Well, tempting though it is,” Sonny replied with a conspiratorial wink, “he’s actually talking to a witness with the Lieutenant at the moment. What d’ya have there?” He gestured at your load of boxes.
You felt a bit silly now that you had to explain yourself. “I got off work early. And I wanted to do something nice for you. All of you. Since I know how hard you’re working. So I brought treats!” You grinned.
“Looks like there’s enough here for the whole precinct, doll,” he raised his eyebrows. He was cute, you thought, you could see why there’d been the potential of something between him and Rafael. You couldn’t help wondering how that made Sonny feel now. Did anything still linger? He certainly seemed nothing but welcoming and friendly with you.
“I didn’t know what to buy,” you explained. “I got donuts, cookies, bagels and cannoli.” You let Sonny take some of the boxes from you, looking at the labels as he did so, and walking with you towards one of the desks.
“You’ve charmed your way into my heart with the cannoli for sure,” he said. He looked like he was going to say something else, when you heard Amanda’s distinctive southern accented voice.
“What’s all this?”
“Y/N bought food,” Sonny told her.
“A lot of food,” Amanda said, coming over the survey the boxes and bags you’d deposited on the desk. “Thanks, Y/N. You know, Barba’s still in with Benson…”
“Yes, Sonny said,” you repeated. It was interesting to arrive here and to have these two people immediately associate you with Rafael, their ADA.
“What’s going on?” said a new voice. You turned to see a thick-set man in a leather jacket, eyeing you with something that looked like suspicion.
“Fin. This is Y/N,” Amanda said. “Y/N, this is Detective Fin Tutuola.” He looked puzzled briefly, then realisation dawned. “Ah, that Y/N,” he held out a hand, which you shook warmly, “Good to meet ya,” he said, “You’re the one who’s got Barba all turned around.”
“Turned around?” you asked, worried that was a negative assessment.
“Ah, it’s nothing. He’s just more…distracted…than usual.” Sonny patted you on the shoulder.
“You ask me, he’s actually unwound a bit,” Amanda added. “Which is definitely a good thing.”
“So, Barba’s unwound and his girl brings us half of the baked goods in Manhattan in the middle of a case. Win win, I’d say.” This was Sonny again. You flushed at the description of yourself as Barba’s ‘girl.’ It was true, but it was the first time you’d heard it.
You shrugged, not sure what to say and hoping they’d not noticed your blushes. “Help yourself,” you said, gesturing to the food. They didn’t have to be asked twice. Amanda and Sonny grabbed cannoli, whilst Fin tore open the donut box. Amanda looked at you with her pastry on its way to her mouth.
“Y’know, there’s coffee over there. Might as well wait with us for a bit, if you like,” she said. “Have a cookie, we’ve got a few…” You smiled, as she started to eat, and went over to the coffee station, to pour a cup from the jug. It was already cool enough to drink right away. You retuned to the desk, took the chair Sonny pointed to, and grabbed a chocolate chip cookie. It felt good to be welcomed by the detectives. It felt even better to know that Rafael was so close by.
You’d finished your coffee, and the detectives had dispersed to take care of their duties, when you heard his voice. In conversation with Olivia, you didn’t catch every word, but it sounded serious. You turned and saw him walking side by side with her towards her office. He was intent on their discussion and didn’t look in your direction to begin with. When they reached her office door, he concluded with, “I know it’s not ideal, Liv, but it’s the best I can do within the law.” His shoulders slouched slightly as he said it. For a horrible moment, you wondered if he would be pleased to see you, here where his focus was on his work, especially if things were a bit tense. But you didn’t have long to linger over that anxiety, as it was then that he turned away from Olivia’s office door and looked right at you. You saw the split second in which he didn’t quite understand what he was seeing, then his serious face dissolved into a smile that erased all doubts. He still looked confused though, as he headed in your direction.
“Y/N, what are you doing here?” he demanded. He arrived at your side, then looked down at the boxes and bags on the desk. He didn’t bend to kiss you, but the warm touch of his hand on your arm was greeting enough.
“I wanted to check in and bring you all something to make the afternoon a bit more pleasant,” you said.
“You thought we were hungry, I take it?” he grinned.
“I’m British,” you retorted. “I didn’t know what to bring. So I decided on a selection.” It was impossible not to enjoy him teasing you. It was just so good to see him. He looked tired, but he also looked insufferably handsome in that slate grey suit, pink shirt and pink tie he was wearing today. Even in the middle of several days of overtime, after a trip to a jail, he still looked immaculate.
“And you assumed that New York cops would eat donuts?” he continued.
“Something like that. But I bought cookies, and other stuff too…”
“The cannoli are sweet,” Sonny said from behind you, reappearing in the room for the first time in a few minutes. “Hope you guys are getting serious, if you do things like this all the time Y/N.” Rafael looked at Sonny with narrowed eyes, but held off from making a comment.
“It’s really kind of you,” he said to you, more softly. “And it’s really good to see you too.”
“Tell her you missed her, Counselor,” Amanda called over from the desk where she was going through files.
“Thank you, Detective Rollins,” Rafael said firmly. You saw Amanda’s smirk, but she didn’t respond and refocused on her work. “She’s right though,” he said to you, quietly. “More than I expected, if I’m honest.”
“I’m glad. I mean, I don’t want to be a distraction. But I’m glad.” You smiled. “Do you know what time you’ll be finished?”
“Not for sure…” he looked downcast. “I’m really sorry.”
“Rafael. Don’t apologise. This is what you do.” You reached out to touch his face, ignoring Amanda and Sonny both watching. “I know that. It’s why I came here, to show that I support you in all parts of your life.” He smiled, looking pleased. “And right now, I’m going to leave you with the food, and I’m going to go and let you work. I just wanted to see you, and feed you.”
“Thank you.” He looked incredibly happy. You suspected he was rather enjoying having an audience who approved of the new person in his life.
“No problem. Walk me to the elevator?”
“Of course.”
“Bye Sonny, Amanda. Say bye to Fin too. And Olivia,” you called.
“We will. Catch you later, Y/N. Thanks for the food.” Sonny replied, while Amanda raised a hand and smiled.
Rafael took your arm and walked with you towards the elevator. Once you were out of ear shot of the others, he turned to you and spoke quietly. “This is a really lovely gesture, you know. No one’s ever done anything like this for me.”
“Well, it’s not like I don’t need these guys on side for the documentary,” you said with a shrug.
“So it was for them?” he asked a question with his eyes and a small grin.
“Yes. Not for you at all, Counselor.” Your eyes told the truth.
“I’ll text you when I’m done. If it’s not too late, can I come over?” He looked hopeful.
“Of course,” you replied, with a rush of pleasure. “I’d like that.”
He leaned closer. “I’m going to say thank you properly. By making love to you.” His fingers brushed your cheek and you were lost in his eyes. You didn’t miss the turn of phrase. This wasn’t something lascivious, or lust filled, he promised. Making love, that was a whole new level. You were certain he didn’t miss the effect of his words on you. He certainly didn’t miss the emotion in your voice as you replied.
“I’d like that very much. See you later.” You planted a light kiss on his lips, as he nodded, and you turned to leave. Knowing it would be impossible, once again, to think of anything but him until you saw him again.
