Chapter Text
Barba should have had lunch. Or breakfast for that matter.
Despite being a renowned workaholic, being called into the office on a Sunday afternoon was not his bliss. Those few precious hours he carved out between 3 pm and 6 pm on Sundays were for a run, a soak and a scotch. In no particular order. The rest of the week he was beholden to the beck and call of the DA’s office, but Sunday afternoons were sacred. Figuratively for him. Literally for Carisi.
Or so he thought.
Perhaps if he had allocated some time to consume a meal, he’d have the bandwidth to process what in the hell just happened…
*********
[Earlier]
To say that Barba had arrived at his office flustered would be an understatement.
He had spent his entire morning completing casework for an upcoming trial. A trial which he had no hope of winning, but was forced to participate anyways in due to the DA’s politicking. There was no ignoring the fact that the case was an absolute mess. The police work was shoddy, the victim was unreliable, and the defendant had the trifecta. They were credible, likeable and well-connected. The ADA from Queen’s had to recuse herself due to a personal conflict, so tag, Barba was it.
Barba had to cancel his brunch plans with Rita accordingly. Despite loathing each other professionally, they were still connected socially. There was something to be said for keeping someone around who knew you "way back when". The friends who knew you when you lived off saltines and canned tuna, and chose to associate with you anyway. Besides, Rita knew where all the skeletons were buried. Figuratively of course.
They had planned to attend the Taste for Life brunch, a pride month fundraiser for HIV/AIDS. Barba been looking forward to partaking in a few mimosas with his egg’s benny. It’s OK to be a cliché once in a while. Thankfully Rita had had some, shall we say, companionship the night before. She was happy to bring her latest conquest in Barba's place.
Barba had hoped for some time to himself before heading to dinner with his mother, but that didn't pan out either. A flurry of phone calls from Manhattan SVU meant his dinner plans were similarly cancelled. Barba abandoned his 4th cup of coffee and rushed to pull together an outfit that would be suitable for a Sunday in the office. He called his mother while he got ready to explain that he was going to miss another one of their dinners, and no, he wasn’t happy about it, despite what she may think.
It was a painfully hot summer already, and Barba had forgotten to pick up his dry cleaning. This meant the only clean suits he had left were heavy weight and did not breath. He sighed in exasperation- business casual it was! He donned a lavender windowpane dress shirt, pale pink chinos and a navy sport coat. He decided to forgo a vest. It was Sunday after all.
He exited his building just as the skies opened up and the rain poured down. Of course there would be an impromptu sun shower at this exact moment in time. He’d forgotten an umbrella in the rush but managed to snag a cab before the precipitation got through to his base layers. By the time Barba made it to 1 Hogan Place he was overheated, damp and very uncomfortable.
Whatever SVU brought to him had better be good.
Rollins and Carisi were waiting outside of his office when he arrived. Barba hadn’t asked Carmen to come in to assist. He knew she’d already worked an extra 15 hours that week and that the upcoming one wasn’t looking too promising either. Carmen was a gem and Barba would be lost without her.
Rollins looked nicely put together for being called in on a Sunday, sporting a simple white pantsuit with a mint green sleeveless blouse. It appeared someone on the team was capable of keeping up with their dry cleaning. He’d expected to see Carisi in his Sunday best, assuming he’d have been in Staten Island enjoying a post-mass lunch with his family. Instead he was wearing cropped pale pink chinos, a short-sleeved oxford shirt in an identical lavender windowpane print, and a navy vest, left unbuttoned. If it wasn’t for the boat shoes and the satchel, Carisi would look like he was wearing a slightly shrunken version of Barba’s outfit.
This wasn’t the first time Barba had noticed Carisi emulating his style.
When he’d first joined SVU, Carisi came in with the grooming and refinement of someone in the Sears catalogue mens section from the 1980’s. How a young man could look so dated was beyond Barba. That mustache alone was an abomination. You’d think someone with experience in SVU would have the good sense NOT to look like the sort of character that the neighbourhood watch was on the lookout for. You’d be wrong.
Carisi came on strong. Like bull in a china shop strong, only with opposable thumbs and a penchant for sharing cannoli. He was eager to tell anyone and everyone all about his ideas, his family and of course, his law studies. Carisi was always giving advice, offering to help and inserting himself into any situation. For someone so green, he sure did come in hot.
Speaking of hot, the detective’s attractiveness had improved considerably once the moustache disappeared. Who knew that he had a deliciously pink and near permanent pout hiding underneath it? His polyester suits and off-putting ties had made fewer appearances lately as well. Barba supposed part of this was his doing. He’d notice the detective had begun to add to his wardrobe. Some tailored pants here, a vest there. It was flattering at first. Until it wasn’t. It was beginning to feel like Carisi wanted to be “just like him when he grew up”.
Barba realized that they had all migrated over to his desk at some point, and that the detectives were talking about the case. Rollins was trying to give him the quick and dirty summary of the case. It was clear that she wanted to get on with her weekend ASAP. Carisi on the other hand seemed a bit more subdued. His facial expressions were relaxed, and his body posture was open. His eyes kept tracking back and forth between Rollins and Barba when they spoke. His eyes would linger on Barba a little longer. As if he was waiting for him to say something profound. The adoration that the detective directed towards him was beginning to be a bit much.
Actually, it was beginning to be a lot.
It wasn’t just the looks of admiration and the wardrobe mirroring that were throwing Barba off-guard. It was the fact that the detective nearly omnipresent. Carisi was constantly showing up at his office to relay messages that could have certainly been a phone call. If Barba was observing an interrogation, Carisi was always standing nearby. Sometimes he was close enough for Barba to simply feel the heat of his presence.
He was forever toting around baked goods and he made a point to offer them to Barba (and Carmen). Carisi often observed his court proceedings, even the cases that were not from SVU, just to sing Barba’s praises afterwards. Carisi was the only one who had dropped off files to him in the last few weeks. Even still. All of that was fine. A little hero worship did wonders for the ego in moderation. Moderation did not include running into Carisi outside of the precinct, the courts and the ADA’s office.
Now that he was thinking about it, Carisi had made appearances at Barba’s last three social engagements. He’d only caught a glimpse of him the first time. Rita had accompanied Barba to a screening of the film Paris is Burning. The New York Bar Association hosted a series of LGBTQ+ events during pride month and they both made it a point to attend the least offensive ones. Anything related to the arts, culinary endeavours or speaker panels, yes. Anything involving glitter, music at an obscene decibel or body shots, no. At least not anymore. Youth is wasted on the young. Carisi was young…
Anyhow, Rita had insisted that she'd seen the detective on her way to the bathroom. Barba had assured her she was mistaken, but Rita was adamant that Carisi had been patiently waiting outside the bathroom for his companion. “Rafael, I swear, it was the detective with the mafia hair and choir boy manners. Trust me.” The event was well-attended, and the theatre was dark, so Barba could not see Carisi when he did his cursory scan of the room. It was only once they’d left the theatre to make their way to a wine bar that he finally spotted him.
Barba only saw a flash of Carisi’s signature blonde coif and the side profile of his roman nose as he helped his date into the cab. His blonde date. His very busty blonde date- of course. It was definitely Carisi, and Barba was thankful that he hadn’t wandered over to say hello. He did not want to feel honour bound to invite the detective to join them for drinks. Rita had some very specific “goals” for their evening, and it would be difficult to play wing-person with a third wheel.
Perhaps that was uncharitable. Carisi had not approached him at the event and it’s possible he had not even looked in Barba’s direction. He could usually feel the detective’s eyes on him if they were in the same room. He’d get that prickly sensation along the back of his neck and shoulders. Barba thought it best not to analyze this too closely…
Come to think of it, Carisi had not brought up seeing Barba at that event, nor the two that followed. And that was odd, considering Carisi talked about LITERALLY everything, ad nauseum, to everyone. Hands wildly gesticulating, eyes sparkling, accent filled conversations that-
“BARBA!”
Barba startled in his seat and at the same time his stomach growled. Loudly.
“Yes Rollins?”
“Are you following what I’m saying counselor or are you waiting for the coffee machine to repeat it for you?”
Barba sighed and pressed his fingertips to his temples. He’d woken up with a touch of a headache and it was beginning to make itself known again. He couldn’t believe he had let his mind wander like that. He had been lost in thought analyzing Carisi’s social calendar rather than focusing on their latest case. At least he'd had the good sense to stare at the coffee maker while he zoned out and not at the detective himself. Small miracles.
“I apologize detectives, I’ve got the beginnings of a headache and I got distracted.”
Carisi had already stood up and made his way over to the coffee maker before Barba had finished the word headache. Barba took another moment to appraise the detective’s outfit while Carisi prepared the coffee. They really were wearing shirts with an identical print. And while Barba had prided himself in curating a wardrobe with dynamic patterns and sophisticated colour palettes, Carisi had not. Although the detective had been wearing more colour lately. Definitely favouring the purple colour palette. Perhaps the busty blonde told him it brought out the blue of his eyes? Because it did...
At this point Carisi was perched against the sideboard the coffee maker was on. The detective really did have long legs. The tailored pink fabric did wonders for the detective’s narrow hips and slender but muscular thighs. And that wasn’t the only thing it highlighted...
“Oh, I think I know why you’re distracted”- Rollins said with a sly grin looking at Carisi and then back at Barba.
The coffee machine started sputtering in the background. The promise of an imminent caffeine jolt was ever enticing. It seemed Carisi had found a granola bar somewhere and placed it on a napkin. Barba’s stomach gurgled audibly again. This was getting embarrassing. Speaking of embarrassing, Rollins was in the middle of calling him out. Barba schooled his features to feign nonchalance and turned his attention back to her.
“Please do enlighten me detective”.
“You’re distracted by your mini-me.”
“EXCUSE ME?”
Barba didn’t know what Rollins meant by THAT, but it sounded crass. At a minimum. Carisi had rejoined them at this point, placing a fresh cup of coffee and the granola bar down in front of the counselor. His perma-pout was on full display, along with a slight head tilt and a furrowed brow. It would seem Carisi was also unsure where Rollins was going with this.
“Mini-me. You know. Like Austin Powers? Carisi is your mini-me today”.
“Do you need a map to get to your point?”
“Can we focus on the case at hand please?” Carisi pleaded. He looked uncomfortable now and averted his gaze to the desk in front of him.
“Sheesh, it seems like everyone is touchy this afternoon. You can’t pretend you haven’t noticed you're basically wearing the same outfit here. Although Carisi is taller, so I suppose that makes you the mini-me Barba.”
Carisi’s attention appeared to be elsewhere, as he continued to stare at the desk. The desk with Barba’s calendar on it. The calendar which included each Pride Month event Barba was planning to attend. The events which Carisi seemed to show up to, with a busty blonde no less.
“I hate to disappoint you Rollins, but this is purely coincidental. I’m not familiar with the Austin you speak of, but I can assure you that my wardrobe decisions were made entirely under duress. My dry cleaner is closed on Sundays”.
“Likely story counselor. I know Carisi’s outfit was planned today. I’m sure A LOT of thought went into picking this ensemble didn’t it Carisi”.
Carisi’s head snapped up upon hearing his name. He’d obviously been lost in thought and had not been following the conversation. He never missed an opportunity to stick up for Barba. If that’s even what Barba needed in this situation. Barba could see the wheels turning in Carisi’s head. He then spotted the red ribbon pin on Carisi’s vest. He hadn’t noticed that before. This conversation was getting away from him and Barba hated to concede verbal sparring power to anyone. Time to deflect.
“I must say Carisi I was surprised to see you in anything less than your Staten Island best on a Sunday. Did they make you say a few extra Hail Mary’s for those boat shoes?”.
Not his finest barb, but it would suffice in a pinch. Barba took a bite of the granola bar, a long gulp of coffee and fought the urge to moan. Carisi had fixed his coffee perfectly. It really did hold a special place in his heart- coffee that is.
“Carisi didn’t come here from Staten Island. He didn’t even come here from a mass in Manhattan. I picked him up from a hipster joint in Tribeca. You know the type with a rooftop terrace and a $30 mimosa.”
Yes. He did know the type. Barba looked again to the red ribbon Carisi was wearing and suddenly it clicked. Carisi was at the very brunch that Barba and Rita had been planning to attend before he’d been assigned to the Queens SVU case that morning. Carisi’s actions were beginning to escalate from hero worship to pseudo stalking. Barba had to shut this down. The detective needed to know he'd caught on to him. He wasn't going to let this go.
“Actually, I know exactly the type. Byzantium? I had been planning on attending the Taste for Life brunch there today. It’s one of the pride month fundraisers that the Bar Association always supports. And the mimosas are only $20, but the eggs benedict are around $50. Terrible spot for parking though”.
“Tell me about it, I had to circle the block 6 times before double parking, just so this one could see his buxom blonde off into a cab.”
“Hey, Amanda that’s disrespectful, please don’t talk about her like that” Sonny interjected.
“Who’s being disrespectful? All I’m saying is I wouldn’t kick her out of bed for eating crackers.”
Barba snorted. Crass definitely seemed to fit Rollins mood today. He supposed this was what happened when the weekend of a 30 something was interrupted.
“Counselor, about the warrants we need—" Carisi’s tone was pleading but Barba was on a roll now. He had a headache, he’d missed brunch, his mother would be insufferable for missing dinner and he could not have Carisi popping up at random in all facets of his life.
“A cab? You didn’t offer to drop her off on your way here Rollins?”
Carisi gave a defeated sigh and slouched in his chair.
“There wasn’t time counselor. I’m surprised Romeo here hadn’t arranged a car in advance”.
“First I’m mini-me, now I’m Romeo” Carisi muttered under his breath. “Can we stop discussing my personal life and get back to the case. I’m sure we’d all rather be somewhere else right now”.
“Like getting back to your date with the blonde?” Amanda quipped without missing a beat.
“Or taking rapists off the streets. Like our jobs”. Carisi supplied.
“I’m curious detective, what made you choose the Taste for Life fundraiser for a date?”
Carisi both paled and blushed at the question. It would seem impossible to do both simultaneously but somehow, he managed it.
“What’s the Taste for Life anyways? Some sort of foodie thing?” Rollins inquired.
“No, it’s a fundraiser specifically for HIV/AIDS. They outline developments in research, treatment and prevention, highlight local agencies that support those living with it, observe moments of remembrance and recognition for those who’ve passed. They usually have dinners but during Pride Month they do brunch so as not to complete with other events that occur in the evening.”
“Jeez Carisi, kinda heavy for a brunch date. What were you thinking?” Rollins asked, one eyebrow raised.
“It’s a good cause and the venue has a great view of the city”- Carisi supplied quickly. He was definitely uncomfortable now and nearing panic. His eyes were wide, and his lips pursed in a thin line whenever he wasn’t speaking. “As does the loft, which we need the warrant for, to look for DNA evidence. Any of this ringing a bell to you?”
“There’s got to be more to it than that Carisi, you follow every food blog from here to Yonkers and you’re telling me THAT'S the brunch you missed church for. I guess it would make a first date memorable?”
“It wasn’t their first date.”
Carisi’s eyes bore into Barba. He could definitely feel the telltale pinpricks that told him he had the detective’s full attention. That sensation of being consumed by another was uncanny.
“How do you know that?” Rollins demanded excitedly.
Carisi made eye contact with Barba, his expression pleading with him to stop this conversation. His mouth was moving, as if he were trying to form words but they died on his lips. His body posture was alert and on edge as he leaned forward to hear what they were saying. He managed to get out a soft “please-“ before Barba cut him off again.
“Well you may have been onto something earlier Rollins. I think our detective here is my mini-me, whatever that means. He’s been popping up at all my pride month events with the blonde in tow. Although I suppose it’s possible Carisi is juggling multiple blondes.”
“I don’t think Carisi is much into juggling. But multiple pride month events? That’s one way to prove you’re open-minded Carisi. Or very creative in coming up with ideas for dates”
“It didn’t require much creativity- the Bar Association Pride Month calendar has been on my desk since the beginning of the month.”
“No kidding!”
“Let me guess, his next date will be the ACLU event on Wednesday on LGBTQ+ Rights?” Barba said. He felt vindicated in his assessment when Carisi’s blush deepened from cotton candy to raspberry.
“Is that why you switched shifts with me Carisi? Have you ever considered dinner and a movie?”
“They already went to a movie. Paris is Burning in fact. I can’t confirm if they had dinner though.”
Rollins just laughed and shook her head.
“Regardless of his dating prowess, Carisi definitely qualifies for the Ally of the Month participation ribbon. Although two more events and he’ll be upgraded to the trophy.”
“Two warrants, one for the loft in SoHo and one for the Hamptons house and we’re out of here. Please Barba.” Carisi begged, his body posture caving into itself. The entirety of his focus seemed to be the hands in his lap. Not that either of them noticed him at this point.
“You know how Carisi is with holidays. There was the 12 days of Christmas baking, also known as 12 extra lbs for your New Years resolutions diet. There was also the love ballads and breakup anthems playlist for Valentine’s Day. And you can’t forget the home brew stout for St. Patty’s day. Carisi commits.”
“In that case, I look forward to my star-spangled pizza in two weeks’ time”
Barba and Rollins broke into fits of laughter. Barba wasn’t always a fan of Rollins. They tended to grate at each other but today had been fun. It seems they had found common ground in having a few good-natured ribs at the newest detective. A sharp ringtone interrupted their banter and Rollins stepped away to take the call. Barba took that opportunity to sneak in another bite of the granola bar and refill his coffee. He’d have to go on a hunt for Motrin shortly. There are some headaches even coffee cannot fix.
“That was Liv I gotta head to Mercy. We’ve got another vic and she’s hoping to get home to Noah at a decent hour tonight.”
“Tell her I should have the warrants for Carisi shortly. I’ll start interrupting judges’ weekends now. They should be finished their golf games by this hour.”
“I’ll see you back at the station Carisi. Enjoy what’s left of your weekend counselor.” And with that Rollins departed.
Barba took a deep breath and looked down at the file that the detectives had brought him. He took another big gulp of coffee and opened his rolodex. It was an archaic system, but he did not like programming judges’ phone numbers into his personal cell. The possibility of a less than proper text being sent to the wrong person in error was deterrent enough for him. Barba picked up the granola bar and nibbled on it while looking through the rolodex.
“I’ll try judge Spadina as soon as I finish this granola bar Carisi, I haven’t had a chance to eat yet today. She’s the least likely to hold ill will for being interrupted on a Sunday.”
Radio silence.
“Are we daydreaming detective?”
Still nothing. Now that was unusual.
Barba swallowed the remnants of the granola bar and finally looked up to see what had the detective so distracted. He was not prepared for what he observed.
Carisi was still sitting in the chair, but was unresponsive. His shoulders had squared off and his body posture was rigid. He was still looking down at his hands and his fingers were clasped so tightly that the tips were turning white. The raspberry blush was visible from his hairline to his collarbone. A prominent vein that resembled a lightning bolt had appeared on the left side of his forehead. His teeth were clenched, and his jaw was working. That perfect pout was pursed so tightly that his lips almost disappeared into his mouth.
But what really got to Barba. What really shook him, was what happened next.
Barba heard staccato exhalations of breath and a deep audible swallow. Barba felt his own pulse start to quicken. He felt spellbound by the image of Carisi before him. He couldn’t look away.
“Carisi?”
After a silent pause that felt like an eternity, Barba heard another staccato exhalation and swallow. He could do nothing but stare directly towards the detective, waiting for a response. ANY response.
Carisi began to lift his head and then looked towards Barba. Void of his trademark cheery disposition, the detective’s eyes were shining with tears and his brow looked furrowed in rage. Carisi’s lips were no longer pursed and his pout was the most pronounced he'd ever seen it. There was a whisper of a quiver playing across his chin. He looked like he was trying to open his mouth to speak and Barba was frozen in place, unable to process what was happening and unable to look away.
Carisi made direct eye contact with Barba and held it for a few seconds before speaking. In a deep but breaking voice, he said “fuck you”.
Barba would have sworn that his heart stopped beating at that moment. By the time Barba could take a breath Carisi had already left his office, leaving the case file and his satchel behind.