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poipoi1912 · 7 years

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Barisi Episode Tag, 18x15

(and 18x13, and 18x14, and 18x11. Let’s just say it’s a multi-episode tag, spanning the entirety of S18, because I wanted to make up for the ones I didn’t write all season long. Inspired by the messy schedule, by Sonny’s temper, by Barba’s secret, and by my ability to see Barisi in everything. 16.4K.)

Note: This is a 3-part story. 3 mini-episode tags, rolled into one. Each “part” of the story takes place after each of the last 3 episodes, except I’m tackling them in their intended order, namely: 1) Know It All (18x15, with the reveal of Barba’s secret) 2) Genes (18x13, with Sonny’s subsequent outburst) and 3) Net Worth (18x14, with a happy Sonny doing a crossword puzzle). And I’m also heavily referencing Great Expectations (18x11, with the reveal about Sonny’s past).

Please enjoy.

~~~

Flan

~~~

Sonny braces himself before he enters Barba’s office.

It’s been a while.

He doesn’t know which Barba he’ll encounter. Worse than that, he doesn’t know which Sonny he’ll be.

Sonny swears there only used to be one of him. One Sonny, for all seasons.

Not anymore.

Now it’s spring, one day, and then it’s winter, and Sonny smiles with the sun and he frowns with the snow, and the snow keeps falling and falling, for days, for weeks, and Sonny forgets to smile, and some days he thinks he’ll be covered by a thin, grimy blanket of snow forever.

Today is a snow day.

Sonny was hoping for spring, this morning Sonny was hoping he’d be able to scare up a smile for Barba, but now he knows that won’t be happening.

Not for a lack of trying.

Sonny does forget to smile, some days, but today he remembered.

Today he tried.

He still couldn’t manage it.

It’s not as easy as it sounds.

Smiling.

Words will have to do.

“Hey, counselor. Nice to see you back.”

Barba doesn’t raise his head, but he does raise an eyebrow.

“Is it?”

Sonny nods, even though Barba can’t see him.

It’s always best to act casual. To pretend he doesn’t know what Barba’s talking about. Sonny is too transparent for his own good, and sometimes Barba will call him out on it, but most of the time Barba lets it slide.

Especially lately.

Barba has been letting a lot of things slide.

That’s not good.

It’s blurring the boundaries.

Sonny needs someone to push back. He doesn’t think he’ll be able to stop on his own.

Barba has stopped pushing back.

Sonny clears his throat.

“Sure it is. It’s… You’re back where you belong, Barba. We all heard about your suspension. It wasn’t… I mean, whatever it was, witness tampering, whatever the D.A. wants to call it, you didn’t deserve a month without pay. You’re a great A.D.A. Everybody knows it. You should be the one workin’ our cases. You’re part of the squad, same as all of us.”

Barba hums.

He’s still facing away from Sonny, head down, as if he’s actually reading whatever’s in front of him.

As if he’s not ignoring Son-

“Right. Lucky for you, Carisi, the D.A. agrees. That’s why he only suspended me for four weeks. Which I spent relaxing on a friend’s yacht in the Caribbean. A most terrible punishment. I’m so happy to be back in New York, with all the perverts and my dear friends at Manhattan SVU.”

Sonny isn’t sure if Barba means that or not. The sarcasm is obvious, but Sonny doesn’t know what’s hiding behind it.

“Lucky for me? How ‘bout you, Barba? Aren’t you happy?”

Barba smiles, but it’s empty.

“No.”

No.

It’s that simple.

Barba narrowly escaped getting fired, and all he can muster is an empty smile and complete apathy and ‘no’.

Sonny tries not to react.

“You don’t care? You could’ve lost your job.”

Barba takes his time before answering.

“I care, Carisi. I wanted to keep my job. I want to be here. Most of the time. When people aren’t trying to kill me. But does it make me ‘happy,’ whatever that means? No. The two aren’t mutually exclusive. Yes, I’m grateful I can continue my work with SVU. No, I am not happy.”

Oh.

That’s understandable.

Sonny hasn’t felt happy in a long time.

Difference is, unlike Barba, he’s not sure he loves his job.

Working Special Victims.

Day in, day out.

How do you come out of that clean?

The longer Sonny stays with SVU, the more he realizes all his superior officers were right, all those years ago, when they warned him to stay with Homicide.

Frankly, Sonny doesn’t know if that would have helped.

It’s not SVU.

It’s being a cop.

That’s what Sonny has a hard time loving.

Being a cop, it changes you for the worse.

Sonny has been changing lately.

Ever since that job interview Barba set up for him.

For that job he didn’t get.

‘Well-rounded applicant,’ ‘extensive background in working with victims,’ ‘excellent criminal law credentials,’ ‘lacks the necessary trial experience.’

That’s what the Brooklyn D.A.’s office said, in their rejection email.

‘Consider private practice for a few years, Carisi, and then you can reapply. You’d make a great Assistant District Attorney. Just not now.’

That’s what La Rossa said, when Sonny called him after getting the news.

Sonny thought he aced that interview.

Not so much, apparently.

He d-

“Enough about my happiness, Carisi. What about the new case? Liv said it involves some sort of group therapy for rapists? Who all claim they carry a ‘rape gene’? And then you wonder why I miss St. Barths.”

Barba’s got him there.

Forget missing St. Barths, Sonny misses Staten Island, sometimes.

That’s how bad it’s gotten.

“No. I mean yeah, we’re working the case. Uh, Nick Brown, the guy we picked up for the rape, he says he can give us the identity of the River Rapist. That’s why I’m here. His lawyer wants to know what kind of deal we can offer.”

Barba sighs, almost in boredom.

Like he’d rather be doing anything else but this.

“What does he mean by identity? Name? Address? I need more than a vague hint, Carisi. You know that.”

Sonny does know that, and he does not appreciate the condescension.

“Just gimme a ballpark offer, Barba. A carrot to dangle in front of his attorney. You know how this works.”

Barba smirks, probably because Sonny tried to out-condescend him.

“Of course. I’ll check with the A.D.A. who is handling the River Rapist case, and I’ll get back to you within the hour. Will that be all?”

Sonny doesn’t know if that’s a polite way of kicking him out, or if Barba is just done talking about the case.

About work, maybe.

About the job, in general.

Barba, with his fresh tan, and his fancy suit, Barba, who’d rather be on a yacht, is tired talking about a job he barely feels like doing. Barba won’t even pick up the phone to call the other A.D.A. He’ll probably make Carmen do it. No rush. It’s not like they’re trying to catch a serial rapist.

Sonny exhales.

It doesn’t matter.

“Yeah. That’s all. Call the station when you got an offer, we still have Brown in lockup.”

Barba doesn’t even acknowledge that. He just starts jotting down… whatever.

It doesn’t matter.

Sonny leaves.

~ ~ ~

Barba didn’t listen.

Barba didn’t use the case Sonny spent hours researching, Barba flat-out refused to do what Sonny said, and it almost cost them the conviction.

All because it was from Delaware, so it didn’t automatically apply. As if that means anything. As if Barba couldn’t have made the exact same arguments presented in that case, and hope for the best. Maybe their judge would have ruled just like her Delaware counterpart. Why not? Sonny’s research was sound. Why wouldn’t the judge agree?

Why waste taxpayers’ money? Why waste all this time? Why should Sonny have to literally pull a guy away from a ledge, hoping he’ll testify five minutes after almost attempting suicide? Why should Sonny have to go through that, just because Barba wouldn’t listen? Their case would have b-

“Carisi. You’re here. Again. Carmen warned me you seemed, and I quote, ‘agitated,’ but watching you seethe in person is much more dramatic. What is it this time? Did you come to finish what you started at the courthouse? Maybe add some four-letter words to your tantrum, now that no one else is listening?”

That doesn’t sound like a bad idea, actually, but Sonny is not that immature.

Or that angry.

Not anymore. He was seething at the courthouse, and he was still pretty ‘agitated’ when he passed Carmen on his way in, but waiting in Barba’s office for thirty-five minutes has calmed him down significantly.

That said, watching Barba taking his sweet-ass time as he pulls off his coat, as he hangs it carefully on that fancy coat hanger, like he’s not bothered at all, it’s kind of testing Sonny’s patience.

Sonny starts yanking on the buttons of his own coat, lying across his lap, just to have something to do while Barba moves in slow motion, probably just to annoy him.

“No, counselor. No four-letter words. We’re all adults here. I just wanna know why you’d take my research and throw it in the trash, when it could have won us the case?”

Barba rolls his eyes as he sits behind his desk.

That’s not good.

Sonny is already starting to pick out cuss words in his head, some of which have way more than four letters.

“I don’t know how to be any clearer, Carisi. I told you at the courthouse, the case you brought me was similar, even relevant, but not directly applicable. The judge would have never let me use it to establish th-”

“You don’t know that, Barba.”

“Of course I know that. I know Judge Morris. I know her record. Her views. She’s presided over dozens of my cases. In fact, one time, about four years ago, I tried to introduce a case from out of state, too. I knew better, unlike you, but I was desperate, because I had no alternative. No other witnesses to fall back on. See, Carisi? That’s when you take a risk. Not when the detectives working a case fail to convince a witness to testify. Consider that a free lesson.

“And my case was identical, by the way. No interpretation needed. Unlike your flimsy connection between rapists and white supremacists, the facts were exactly the same. That’s why I tried to use it. But Judge Morris wouldn’t have it. The facts were the same, but the statutes weren’t. And she let me know. ‘This isn’t Rhode Island, Mr. Barba. This is New York. Do you need a map?’ That’s what she told me.”

Oh.

Sonny didn’t kn…

“Listen, Carisi. You graduated law school five minutes ago. I’ve been at this for a while. Spending fifteen years as an A.D.A. gives you some insider knowledge. It teaches you to pick your battles.

“Being belittled in court before losing a motion helps no one. It only weakens your case. It makes you look desperate, which may very well be true, but you don’t want the judge to know that. You have a reputation to uphold, and a case to protect. There are Hail Marys, and then there are stupid moves.”

Right.

Stupid.

Sonny didn’t know that.

Didn’t know any of that.

Sonny doesn’t have ‘trial experience.’ He doesn’t know the judges, he doesn’t know the defense attorneys, and they don’t know him. Sonny has no reputation to uphold.

Sonny just knows the law. And the victims.

Sonny knows the victims, and that’s the problem.

That’s why h-

“Alright? Does that satisfy your curiosity? Are you convinced I am not, in fact, an idiot who threw his own case for no reason? Or, wait, did you think I had a reason, Carisi? Did you think maybe I didn’t use your ‘research’ because it came from you? Because we’re not buddies anymore, apparently? Did you think I’d let my ego cost us the case?”

The way Barba intones ‘buddies’ makes Sonny wince.

That’s not what he meant.

“That’s not what I meant, Barba.”

Barba starts typing on his laptop.

Like he’s bored.

Done.

Like he’s done with this conversat-

“I don’t care what you meant, detective. Are we done here?”

No.

“No. We’re not done. Sure, maybe you tried before, with the same judge, but that was four years ago. You can’t be sur-”

“Enough, Carisi. And I would appreciate it if you stopped raising your voice every five minutes. If you’re trying to intimidate me, it’s not working. Also, if you’re trying to intimidate me, you’re dumber than I thought.”

Well.

Barba hadn’t insulted Sonny’s intelligence in over a year.

The streak had to end sometime.

The worst part is, Sonny didn’t even realize he was yelling.

“I’m not tryin’ to intimidate you, Barba. I’m just mad. Okay? Can’t a guy be mad?”

Barba keeps typing.

“Sure. Just go and be mad outside my office, please. I’m busy.”

‘Busy.’

Busy booking another vacation, probably, while Sonny tries to talk to him about a case. About justice. About what’s right.

Barba doesn’t car…

That’s not true.

Barba cares.

Barba gets frustrated, too. He just doesn’t get mad.

Sonny hasn’t mastered that trick yet.

Maybe it comes with experience.

Sonny doesn’t have experience, so he gets mad, and he tries to intimidate people, apparently, which is something he swore he’d never do, and if that’s how he comes across now, then what’s the poin-

“I can clearly see you being mad in my office, Carisi. When I specifically asked you not to.”

Sonny gapes.

Is Barba quoting The Office?

That kinda takes the wind out of Sonny’s sails. It’s hard to stay mad at someone who’s quoting Michael Scott.

“Uh. Well… I gotta… Where else am I gonna go? You’re the one who made me mad, Barba. Now you gotta suffer.”

Barba keeps on typing.

“I’m not the one who made you mad.”

It’s funny how Barba thinks he can psychoanalyze Sonny while compiling an email.

“That so?”

Barba clicks his mouse.

Hits ‘send,’ probably.

“Yes. I don’t know why you’re mad, detective, but it’s not because of me. I’ve been playing nice, if you hadn’t noticed. For a long time, now. I’m sure I’ve done nothing to upset you. No jokes, no insults.

“I’ve just been doing my job. Incidentally, it is my job. Not yours. It’s my job to decide which arguments to use during a trial. It’s not your job to do ‘research,’ or to provide me with strategy tips, when you don’t have all the facts.”

Sonny bites his tongue.

Literally.

Metaphorically, he can’t help opening his big mouth.

“You don’t even want this job.”

Barba picks up his phone.

More distractions.

More reasons to look away.

The light from the screen illuminates his face.

His tan hasn’t even faded yet.

“Don’t I?”

Sonny tries not to lose his temper.

“No, Barba. You don’t. You don’t want this job. You say you do, but you don’t act like it. You almost got fired from bein’ a Manhattan A.D.A., a job others would kill for, and you don’t give a shit. You went on vacation during your suspension. You d-”

“Would you kill for this job, Carisi?”

Dammit.

Barba failed to psychoanalyze Sonny while compiling an email, but he’s definitely succeeding now, while compiling a text.

“I didn’t s-”

“Is that what this is about? Envy? That’s why you’ve been so angry? Why you barely talk to me, ever since I helped you get that job interview in Brooklyn?”

Sonny doesn’t answer.

He doesn’t have to. Barba knows wh-

“I suppose I was wrong. I am the one who made you mad. I apologize for thinking you could handle rejection like an adult.”

‘Rejection.’

Great.

Barba knows what happened.

Of course he does.

He always does.

Sonny didn’t tell him.

Sonny didn’t talk to Barba after the interview at all.

For days.

Not even to say thank you.

At first, Sonny was trying not to jinx it.

Sonny thought he aced that interview.

Then, after the email, Sonny just didn’t feel like seeing Barba’s smug face as he explained he was grateful for the recommendation, but he failed to get the job.

Sonny doesn’t like to admit failure. He’s worked too hard, all his life, and he’s had more hits than misses, but that only makes the misses more painful. That’s why Sonny thanked Barba, way back when, before the results of the bar exam were even posted. Just in case.

That one was a hit. Sonny passed the bar exam, with flying colors.

The job interview was a miss. And it stings. And this is the first time Barba’s mentioned it, since then. Even though he’s clearly known about the rejection, this whole time.

That stings even more, for some reason. Sonny never told anyone he was rejected. Liv, and Fin, and Amanda, they all asked, and he mumbled something about wanting to stay with SVU ‘for now.’ Like staying was his choice. Like he had a choice.

Sonny was hoping Barba would assume the same thing.

That was obviously too much to hope for. La Rossa probably forwarded that rejection email to Barba himself. They’re friends. They probably had a good laugh over it. Barba read all about Sonny’s shortcomings, all about Sonn-

“For my personal safety, Carisi, I feel I should tell you this is not how we do things here at the D.A.’s office. You will not get my job if you murder me in a fit of rage. You know that, right? You’d just be creating a vacancy. There’s a whole process, after that. Applications, deadlines, two rounds of interviews. Killing me would only be the first step.”

Sonny snorts.

Much as he appreciates the joke, he hates this.

Sonny hates that he’s so mad. He swore he’d never become this person again, and now here he is.

Sonny hates that he keeps snapping at Barba for something that isn’t Barba’s fault. Sonny is the one who failed. Barba only tried to help him. Barba didn’t do anything wrong. Barba may be arrogant, and he may be flaunting the fact he’s an A.D.A. while Sonny is not, but that’s just the truth.

Sonny couldn’t get the job. What’s done is done. No need to murder anybody.

“I don’t wanna kill you, counselor.”

Barba chuckles.

“That’s a relief. If only your face didn’t suggest otherwise.”

Barba is in a good mood, all of a sudden. Probably because he thinks he figured out Sonny’s big secret. His jokes are all pointed, they’re all subtle jabs at Sonny’s attitude, but there’s no malice behind them now.

Barba is rarely in a good mood these days.

Sonny’s current mood leaves a lot to be desired, but still, this could be an opportunity to clear the air between them.

Sonny hates that he’s so mad.

Maybe talking about it will help.

Maybe Sonny can understand Barba’s point of view.

“Do you want this job, Barba? Be honest. ‘Cause, let me tell you, I would kill for it. Not you, but… You know what I mean. It’s not envy. It’s resentment. I don’t wanna be, but I am resentful ‘cause you have the job I couldn't get, and you’re puttin’ it at risk, like it’s not a big deal. I busted my ass to finish night school, to get my law degree, and I studied day and night to pass the bar exam, and I wanted…”

Sonny exhales.

“That job, in Brooklyn, it was a way out. A different way to help. I wanted it. And I couldn’t get it. And now here you are, jeopardizing your position doing God knows what, tampering with witnesses God knows why, and you get busted, and you’re lucky enough to keep your job, and you don’t even care. You come back from your relaxing vacation, with your golden tan and sand still in your shoes, and you won’t even look at me when I wanna discuss a case, ‘cause you’re that bored. ‘Cause you don’t wanna be here. ‘Cause y-”

“I love this job.”

Sonny blinks.

His anger, his resentment, they dissipate instantly.

There’s more emotion in Barba’s eyes than Sonny has ever seen.

Barba is looking right at him now, and Sonny regrets asking.

“I do. Oh, I really do. But sometimes…”

Barba is smiling.

Not at Sonny.

Not because of Sonny.

Barba is smiling a crooked smile that Sonny can’t decipher.

“Sometimes what?”

Barba’s smile gets wider.

Sonny thinks he can see wistfulness, now. And a hint of condescension, probably because Sonny had to ask. Because Sonny doesn’t get it.

How is Sonny supposed to get it? He and Barba are nothing alike. Barba has been an A.D.A. for fifteen years. Sonny graduated law school five minutes ago. Sonny doesn’t have the experienc-

“Sometimes I think it would be better if I left it.”

Oh.

Maybe Sonny and Barba do have something in common.

“That why you came clean? Liv said… She said you talked to the D.A. about your… Whatever it was, whatever Willard had on you, Liv said you confessed. Even though your secret wasn’t exposed. Is that why? Were you hoping you’d lose your job? Deep down?”

Barba smiles.

This time, it’s because of Sonny.

Sonny can tell.

Barba is smiling genuinely, for once.

Not an ounce of condescension.

“I see you remember our conversation. The one about my suicidal streak.”

Sonny can’t help smiling back.

He could never forget that conversation.

Simpler days.

Happier days.

Sonny could never forget the look on Barba’s face, in that corrid-

“Maybe you’re right, Carisi. I don’t know. I don’t know what I was hoping for. I just wanted to roll the dice. Let the chips fall where they may. Wait, am I mixing metaphors?”

Barba smiles again.

He’s in a very good mood.

Maybe he didn’t know what he was hoping for, when he went in for that meeting with the District Attorney, but it’s clear he likes what he got.

He got to keep his job.

Barba loves this job.

Even if he was ready to leave it.

Love isn’t enough, sometimes.

What Sonny saw as indifference, it was fatigue.

They’re all tired.

Barba just took a chance.

Sonny wishes he could take a chance too. Roll the dice. Except he feels like someone else is holding the dice, and he’s just along for the ride, and now Sonny’s the one mixing metaphors, and Barba is still smiling, they’re smiling at each other, and Sonny remembers what it was like to feel good.

“How did you feel, Barba?”

“Hm?”

“When you found out you still had a job to come back to, after the suspension. After you booked your trip to the Caribbean, after you packed your linen suits, how did you feel?”

Barba keeps on smiling.

“I was relieved.”

Sonny thought as much.

“Because, when the chips were down, you knew you wanted to stay?”

Barba shakes his head.

“No. I was relieved because the D.A. thought I deserved to stay.”

Oh.

This never occurred to Sonny. Barba, doubting himself like that.

Sonny gets the urge to defend Barba, which is something he hasn’t felt in a long time.

“Of course you deserve to stay, counselor. Come on. If anybody does, it’s you.”

Barba narrows his eyes.

“Is that so? I thought I was, and I quote, jeopardizing my position doing God knows what, and tampering with witnesses God knows why, and I got busted. End quote.”

Sonny sighs.

“I’m sorry, Barba.”

Barba looks amused.

“For?”

Fair enough.

“I shouldn’t have said that. It wasn’t my place. Whatever you did, it’s in the past. I told you. You’re a great A.D.A., and… And of course you love your job. I know that. It’s been almost three years now. I know you. I see how hard you fight. I see how hard these cases hit you. Every day. And I ain’t helping, either. Not anymore. I’m… I’m making things worse for you, sometimes. I’m sorry.”

Barba opens and closes his mouth in surprise.

“I wasn’t expecting to get that apology tonight, Carisi, but it was long overdue, so I’ll take it.”

Sonny wasn’t expecting to deliver that apology, either.

It was long overdue.

Sonny hates that he’s so mad. Sonny hates that he keeps snapping at Barb-

“I was expecting an apology for suggesting I would ever willingly jeopardize a case. For thinking I would let the River Rapist walk, just because I didn’t want to use your suggestion. For thinking I would let Willard walk, because I had a weak spot, and he found it.”

Wait.

“I never thought that, Barba. Honest to God. The Delaware case, sure, I didn’t know why you wouldn’t use it, and I got mad. I took it personally. I’m sorry. But the blackmail? Never. I knew you wouldn’t drop the charges against Willard, no matter what dirt he had on you. You wouldn’t let him get away with it. I never doubted that.”

Barba looks like he may or may not believe that.

It’s the truth.

Sonny was surprised Barba even had a weak spot, at least one which could be easily discovered. Sonny was shocked to hear Barba would ever tamper with a witness, at least not without making sure he wouldn’t get caught. But Sonny never doubted th-

“No? Well, thank you for the vote of confidence. But, just for the record, there’s no dirt.”

No.

Sonny doesn’t want to hear this.

Barba’s weak spot, whatever it is, whatever reason Barba had to tamper with a witness, Sonny doesn’t want to hear it, because he already resents Barba for it, for risking everything, and he doesn’t want to know what it is that Barba values more than the job.

It’s not anything disgraceful.

Sonny knows that in his gut.

Barba is a good person.

Sonny knows that, and that’s all he needs to know. The details don’t matter. Sonny has no desire to hear wh-

“I don’t know what you think I did, Carisi, but there’s no dirt. No shame. What I did was wrong, but the truth is, I’d do it again.”

Oh.

Sonny may not want to hear this, but it seems that Barba wants to tell him.

‘Just’ for the record.

Maybe Barba doesn’t want Sonny to think the worst.

To think he’s dirty.

Sonny would never think that.

Barba keeps staring.

Clearly waiting for a question.

Sonny may not want to hear this, but he will ask.

It’s what Barba wants.

Barba wants to talk.

Maybe talking about it will help.

“What did you do, Barba?”

Barba’s shoulders relax.

“Willard hacked my bank account. He discovered that, for the past several years, I’ve been making regular payments to an account belonging to a young woman. Willard assumed the money was in exchange for sexual favors.”

Whatever Barba’s secret is, Sonny knows that’s not it.

“So what’s the real reason? Why are you’re sending her money?”

Barba smiles that lopsided smile again.

“She’s the daughter of a witness, from an old case. About ten years ago, I was prosecuting a man who raped and killed two women. The mother, she was a heroin addict, but she was also my only witness. On the day of the trial, she showed up so strung out she could barely talk. The judge wouldn't give me a recess. I had to put her on that stand, or I had no case.”

Sonny leans in, and wishes that desk weren’t between them. Barba’s never shared anything about his past.

“And?”

“And, she asked for a loan, and I gave it to her. I knew what she was going to do, and I still gave her money. It was the only way. So, she bought what she bought, and she did what she did, and she got on the stand. She buried the guy. She sent a really bad man to prison for the rest of his life, and she died of an overdose, eight hours later, leaving behind her ten-year-old daughter.”

“The girl you’ve been helping.”

Barba nods.

“She lives with her grandmother. They're broke. I do what I can.”

Sonny smiles.

That’s not dirt.

Barba is clean.

Still.

Fifteen years as an A.D.A. and Barba is still clean.

There’s no need for resentment anymore.

If Barba values anything more than the job, it’s justice.

That’s why Barba risked everything.

Why he ‘tampered’ with a witness. To get a truthful testimony. To get justice.

Sonny is grateful he got to hear this.

“Thank you for tellin’ me, counselor. Witness tampering, my ass. You didn’t obstruct justice. Justice was served. Like I said, you deserve to be here. You did a good thing.”

Barba tilts his head.

“A good thing? Really? Even though a woman’s death is on my hands? Even though I’m the one who made a ten-year-old girl into an orphan?”

Sonny doesn’t hesitate.

“Yes. It’s terrible that a woman had to die, but yes. You have nothing to feel guilty about.”

Sonny knows Barba did the right thing. He wishes he had done the sam-

“Don’t say that, Carisi. Don’t say I did a ‘good’ thing, so casually. I may not regret it, but it was still wrong. I may not be ashamed, but I still blame myself for her death. You don’t know what that’s like.”

If only that were true.

“Trust me, Barba. I know. Maybe you think that woman’s death is on your hands, but the truth is, she was sick. You didn’t cause her death, and you couldn’t have prevented it. If it hadn’t been that hit, it would have been the next one.

“You didn’t get her killed. You made her death count. She saved people. You saved people. The women this guy would’ve raped and killed. That’s what counts. This guy, he’s still in prison, right? That’s what counts. You stopped him. Imagine knowin’ he was out there, killing people, because of you. That’s guilt. Knowin’ you could have stopped it.”

Barba stays silent.

For far too long.

That’s never a good thing.

“What is it, Carisi?”

Sonny frowns.

“What? Nothing, I’m just…”

“What is it? What do you think you could have stopped? Someone’s death?”

Sonny can feel his heart rate spiking.

He wants to sink into the chair.

He wants to run out of Barba’s office, and never come back.

He doesn’t talk about this.

To anyone.

Sonny hadn’t said Bobby Bianchi’s name out loud in years, until that interrogation. It took him days to recover, afterwards. To stop feeling guilty. To stop being angry.

It didn’t last, of course. Sonny’s had his bouts of anger since then, but those first few days, they were bad. He doesn’t want an encore. If he dredges that up again, it might take him weeks to calm down.

Sonny is angry enough as it is.

He doesn’t need that.

He needs to get up and walk away.

Like he always does, when someone asks.

Sonny can’t t-

“I showed you mine, Carisi.”

Barba has a point.

Barba isn’t letting this slide.

Barba is asking, and Sonny can’t just walk away. Not during this conversation. Not after what Barba told him.

Not when Barba is looking at him like that.

With curiosity.

With concern.

Sonny takes a deep breath. The faster he gets it out, the better.

“It’s nothing you haven’t heard before, counselor. Scrawny kid gets picked on. Bullied. At school, in the neighborhood, you name it. It’s the same old story.”

Barba smiles knowingly.

Like Sonny’s abrupt opening actually makes sense to him.

Like maybe he got picked on, too, when he was a k-

“Were you always this scrawny, Carisi? I always pictured you as a tubby kid. All that homemade Italian food. I figured you hit a growth spurt later in life.”

Sonny starts laughing.

He wasn’t expecting that from Barba.

A sweet joke.

Anything sweet.

“I, uh… Well, my mom’s cooking is amazing, so you got that right, but no, I was always pretty scrawny. All that running around, probably. Gettin’ into trouble. You know how that goes. I mean, I did hit a growth spurt when I was, like, seventeen, but it just made me even scrawnier.”

Barba nods.

He doesn’t push for more.

Barba seems content to watch Sonny laugh.

For a moment, Sonny forgets what he’s doing. Sonny forgets he’s supposed to be sharing a deep, dark secret, and he thinks he’s just recounting an old schoolyard tale to a friend.

A fun memory.

Sonny’s heart rate is normal again.

Maybe that’s the trick.

What he’s about to say is not fun, but it is a memory. It’s over. It’s in the past, and maybe Sonny can leave it there. Maybe, like Barba, Sonny can learn not to be ashamed.

“Anyway, uh, everybody used to pick on me, but the worst was this one kid, Bobby Bianchi. One day, when we were at school, he grabbed me by the hair and he shoved my face through a plate glass window. I was bleeding, I was all cut up. It was a mess. One of the teachers called the principal, and he asked me what happened.

“I could have put an end to it, right there. All I had to do was say Bobby’s name. But I didn’t. Because I didn’t want Bobby to get into trouble. So I just kept quiet. I said I tripped. Nobody ever knew what happened. Bobby kept on bein’ a bully, and I kept on bein’ scared, until he changed schools when we were in seventh grade. I was ecstatic. I thought I’d never have to hear his name again.”

Barba looks equal parts captivated and confused.

Sonny doesn’t blame him. Barba is expecting a story about guilt and death, and Sonny is talking about schoolyard bullying. That’s a pretty big leap.

Except when it’s not.

“Bobby Bianchi, he’s in Sing Sing now. He stabbed some poor sap to death during a bar fight. I found out from my mom, a few years back. Our moms are still friends. ‘Cause… ‘Cause my mom doesn’t know it was him. She just knows she has a klutzy son who walks into windows face-first.”

Barba no longer looks confused.

He looks exasperated.

“You can’t possibly blame yourself for that, Carisi. This Bobby, he bullied you when you were, what, ten years old? And you blame yourself for a murder he committed two decades later? You think you could have stopped that? By telling the principal? You think that would have made a difference?”

Sonny does.

“Yeah. I do. Not a day goes by that I don't regret keeping my mouth shut. I always think, what if I would have said something? Maybe that guy would still be aliv-”

“Oh please. If you had said something, Bobby would have kicked your ass, next time he saw you. And then you would have learned that, sometimes, keeping your mouth shut is a perfectly valid choice. At least if you want to stay in one piece. And I say this from experience.”

Oh.

Barba did get picked on, when h-

“You know better than this, Carisi. You can’t blame the victim. Not even when it’s you.”

Huh.

Sonny hadn’t thought of it that way.

With good reason.

“I’m not the victim, Barba. That guy who got stabbed, he’s the real victim.”

Barba raises both eyebrows.

“Real? All victims are real, Carisi. Just because Bobby Bianchi didn’t kill you, it doesn’t mean you weren’t hurt.”

Sonny’s knee starts bouncing.

Barba is right.

Sonny was hurt.

Sonny was changed.

That’s when he started getting angry.

After he had to have nineteen stitches. After he had to suffer through months of ridicule from all the kids at school, including his own sisters, who were making fun of him both for his busted face and for the dumb way he got hurt.

Sonny never told them the truth, either.

After that, Sonny started shoving around other, smaller kids at the playground, until Theresa grabbed him by the ear and told him to behave.

Sonny kept picking fights, but only when she wasn’t there to see it.

That anger, it never went away.

Throughout high school, throughout college even, that anger was always there.

It’s still there, but it’s kept at bay, when things are going well.

When things are tough, Sonny has to struggle with it.

He doesn’t always win.

When he was a senior in high school, after a bad breakup, Sonny got drunk for the first time. Somehow, someway, he and his best friend Jason came to blows. They used to be inseparable. Sonny broke Jason’s nose. They fell out, after that fight. Sonny still doesn’t remember what started it. He only remembers blind rage, and blood gushing from Jason’s nose. Blood, getting on his shirt.

When he was a junior in college, after a final that didn’t go his way, Sonny picked a fight at a frat party, with some guy he’d never met. The guy accidentally shoulder checked him, and Sonny snapped, and within ten seconds a shoving match turned into an all-out brawl. Sonny had started working out by then, looking to get into the Academy, so he handled himself a little too well. The people at that party, some of them Sonny’s friends, they looked at him differently after that.

Like he used to look at Bobby.

Sonny hated putting that look on people’s faces.

That’s why he tried to stop.

To change.

To be less angry.

Sonny tried, and it wasn’t easy, and it took time, but he succeeded.

After college, Sonny got into the Police Academy, like he always dreamed, and then he graduated at the top of his class, and then he got into law school, and then he made detective, and then he found a home at SVU.

That helped.

Sonny found peace. He managed to simmer down, as the years went by. With age comes wisdom. Sonny left that angry college kid behind.

Sonny found his old self, his carefree self, his innocent self, his goofy self, his happy self, and he remembered what life was like before he knew about the Bobby Bianchis of the world.

Sonny liked being happy.

He swore he’d never get that angry again.

It didn’t work out that way.

Sonny had gone years without an outburst, but streaks are meant to be broken.

Right?

And Sonny broke his streak.

Many times.

So many, it’s hard to keep track.

Sonny remembers that dentist, who molested his own niece. Sonny remembers almost breaking his fingers.

Sonny remembers Tommy, bailing out on Bella. Sonny remembers grabbing him by the throat.

Sonny remembers seeing that little girl in a cage. Sonny remembers wanting to kill whoever was responsible.

Sonny remembers that pastor who raped a thirteen-year-old and got her pregnant. Sonny remembers wanting to punch him in the face.

Working Special Victims isn’t easy.

That’s why Sonny has been cutting himself some slack, in the past few years.

He thinks that’s where he went wrong.

That can be a slippery slope.

Sonny used to be able to shake those incidents, moments after they happened. That anger, it was transient. It came and it went. It didn’t permeate him. It didn’t fester in him.

It’s gotten worse.

He’s gotten worse.

Now, it’s not just heinous crimes, or somebody hurting his family.

Now, Sonny gets mad over nothing.

Over anything.

Sonny is having a tough time, he’s under pressure, and his anger keeps building, and festering, and he keeps snapping at people, he keeps snapping at Barba, too, more often than not, and he hates it, and he wants it to stop, because he can’t afford to lose friends every time life doesn’t go his way.

Sonny has to change, again, becaus-

“Carisi? Are you… Did I overstep? I apologize. It’s none of my business.”

Barba is frowning.

There’s no need.

All victims are real.

Sonny needed to hear that. Sonny needed to think about that.

This talk with Barba, it was therapeutic, even if most of it took place inside Sonny’s head.

“No. You didn’t. You didn’t overstep, counselor. Uh. Listen, you said something, before. About me trying to intimidate you. Or, or about me lookin’ like I wanted to kill you. I d-”

“I was joking, Carisi.”

Sonny is heartened by the fact Barba felt the need to clarify that.

“I know. I know you were joking. Just hear me out. Um. You wouldn’t know it from lookin’ at me, but I always had trouble with my temper. Ever since Bobby Bianchi. You said it. I was hurt. I was a victim, too, and I didn’t even know it. For years. I was always acting out, and getting into trouble, and, uh, there were a couple of incidents that got out of hand, when I was younger, and…”

Sonny sighs.

He doesn’t know how much of his inner monologue he needs to share with Barba. How much of his past. He just knows he has to explain.

“I’m not tryin’ to make excuses here, Barba, but when I’m under a lot of stress, I have a hard time keeping myself under control. Sometimes. I’m not… I don’t get violent. Not anymore. But I… I blow up. Without provocation. And, well, it’s been a rough year, and that’s why I’ve been… you know. The way I’ve been.”

Barba is still frowning.

“No need to explain, detective. This is a stressful line of work. We’ve all been there. It’s fine.”

No.

Sonny needs to explain.

“I had a pretty good run. I was pretty happy. For years. I had dreams, I had big plans. I was working toward my goals. Everything was goin’ right. And then somebody threatened to kill you. Not that… Obviously that’s… You were the one most affected by that. Of course. I’m not comparin’ our situations or anything. I just… It wasn’t easy for me either. I seriously thought about leaving, back then.

“And then Dodds died, and… And I couldn’t leave, after that. I couldn’t leave the squad. I didn’t wanna leave. I told you, remember? And then, when the dust settled, when everybody started moving on, I figured maybe I could try again. And you helped me, you got me that job interview, but I screwed that up, and then I screwed everything up, by bein’ an asshole to you, and then I had a cop hold a gun to my head, and I thought I was gonna die, and all I f-”

“What?”

Barba looks shocked.

He didn’t know.

Sonny forgot.

“Yeah. Tom Cole, remember that case? He held a gun to my head, when we went up to his farmhouse. Liv took him out. That’s not the point.”

Barba is blinking rapidly.

“What do you mean that’s n-”

“That’s not the point, Barba. The point is, I thought I was gonna die, and all I felt was regret. ‘Cause I’ve been slipping. I’ve spent months being this angry asshole, and I can’t stop. I try, and it works for a couple of weeks, and then something happens and I snap again. I don’t want that.

“I don’t even know if I wanna be a cop anymore. I think that’s the problem. It’s hard not to get angry, when you see what we see. It eats at you. I know bein’ an A.D.A. can’t be that much better, but it’s gotta be a little better. It’s gotta be. It can’t be any worse. Bein’ a cop, it’s… it’s changing me. I’m regressing. I thought I could handle it, at first, but maybe I can’t. Cole, he was a good guy, and look how he turned out. I don’t want that. I want out.”

Barba looks uncomfortable.

Maybe Sonny shared too much.

Yeah, Sonny definitely shared too much. They were having a cordial conversation, after a long time, and Barba was being supportive, like he used to be, before, and Sonny had to go and ruin it by oversharin-

“Okay, one problem at a time, Carisi. First of all, next time somebody holds a gun to your head, find a better way to tell me. Instead of blurting it out in the middle of an existential monologue. Also, please tell me in a timely manner. Not months after the fact. Alright? You almost dying, that’s information I would like to have, as soon as it becomes available. Alright?”

Oh.

Barba sounds irritated.

He looks worried, brows all furrowed and lips drawn tight, but he sounds irritated.

Sonny thinks this might be Barba’s way of showing he cares.

Irritation.

If that’s true, then it must mean Barba cares about Sonny a lot, becaus-

“Secondly, like I said, there’s no need to explain. It’s fine. You’re fine. You’ve been the world’s friendliest colleague for almost three years. You cook for the squad, you babysit their kids, you bring them coffee. You bring me coffee. You’ve brought me pastries, for no real reason, on more than one occasion. So what if you’re an asshole, every once in a while? You’ve earned it. No one’s going to hold it against you. Least of all me. I’ve been an asshole since birth.”

Sonny grins.

Barba has a way of putting things into perspective.

Of making everything sound easy.

“Thirdly, if you want out, you can get out. If you have dreams, go after them. I don’t see why you hung all your hopes on that one position in Brooklyn. There will be other jobs, Carisi. That was your first interview. You know how many people get a job on their first interview?”

Sonny knows one person who did.

“Other than you?”

Barba smirks.

“Well, yes, but I’m a little older. You’re a millennial. There are some drawbacks to being young.”

Barba isn’t wrong.

Still.

“I know there’s gonna be other jobs, Barba. But the reason I didn’t get that job is the same reason I won’t get any other job. I ‘lack the necessary trial experience.’ And if I wanna fix that, I gotta leave the force.”

Barba bites his lip. It’s very distractin-

“Isn’t that what you want?”

Despite what Sonny may blurt out during his existential monologues, there’s no easy answer to that question.

“I don’t know.”

Barba takes a moment before speaking again.

“The job interview, in Brooklyn, was it you rolling the dice? Leave if you get the job, stay if you don’t?”

That sounds about right.

And kinda scary.

Final.

Sonny never put it in those words, but in retrospect that’s exactly what it was. No wonder he feels so resigned. He didn’t get the job, so he has to stay.

“I guess. I guess we have that in common, counselor.”

Barba smiles a tight smile.

“And how did you feel? When the chips were down?”

That’s a question Sonny can answer very easily.

“Trapped.”

That interview, it was a way out, and Sonny screwed it all up, and now he has no choice but to st-

“I see. And you still feel that way?”

Talk about an easy answer.

“Yeah. What, you couldn’t tell? By the way I’ve been angry, ever since? By the way I start yellin’ at you, at the drop of a hat, every other week? By the way I keep tryin’ to antagonize you, when I used to, uh…”

Starting that sentence was a bad idea. Finishing it will only make things worse.

Thankfully, Barba seems to get it.

Barba’s tight smile unwinds, like he’s letting Sonny off the hook, and h-

“When you used to kiss my ass? Which was your idea of flirting? Yes, I have noticed a shift in your behavior.”

Well.

The use of ‘thankfully’ was premature.

Barba definitely gets it, but Sonny is not feeling very thankful right now.

Worse part is, he can’t even deny it.

It’s true.

Sonny has been flirting with Barba, for years, and Barba has known, for years.

The easy smile on Barba’s face proves it.

Sonny doesn’t know if he should be embarrassed, because Barba called him out, or excited, because Barba finally put a name to whatever it is they have been doing.

‘Flirting.’

Simple as that.

Barba makes everything sound easy.

Barba is still smiling.

Easy.

Like maybe Sonny flirting with him isn’t an entirely unpleasant thought.

Then again, Barba did say he has noticed a ‘shift.’

There hasn’t been much flirting between them, lately.

They barely ever interact.

Sonny lost himself in anger, and resentment, and he let that connection fade.

That potential, Sonny wasted it.

All the progress he had made, after carefully managing to earn Barba’s respect, and then Barba’s friendship, Sonny threw it all away.

Barba’s easy smile, it says maybe that was a mistake.

Maybe they could be having this entire conversation, this de facto therapy session, not as colleagues, or even friends, but as something else.

Something more.

In another life.

In another life, Sonny would have gotten that damn job, and he would have taken Barba out to dinner as a thank you, and they’d be equals, they’d be A.D.A. Carisi and A.D.A. Barba, of Brooklyn and Manhattan respectively, and Sonny wouldn’t be so angry, and he’d finally make a move, like he planned, and maybe Barba would s-

“It’s alright, Carisi. No need to explain that, either. I suspected you were over your infatuation with me. It’s obvious. You used to run into my office every time you passed a class in law school. You used to tell me your actual grades. And now you won’t even tell me somebody almost shot you in the head.”

Irritation.

Caring.

Sonny threw it all away.

Barba cared, and Sonny threw it all aw-

“Also, I believe I overheard Fin telling Rollins about a certain Miss 34B? About a month ago? You cops and your locker room talk. Your girlfriend deserves a modicum of respect. Despite her poor taste in men.”

Great.

Fin and his big mouth.

Now Barba thinks Sonny has a girlfriend.

As if this conversation wasn’t embarrassing enough already.

Sonny has spent the last few minutes trying to avoid eye contact, but that won’t cut it anymore.

He needs to be facing Barba for this.

He needs to explain.

Problem is, Sonny doesn’t know where to begin.

He doesn’t even know why Barba would bring that up.

Any of it.

First, Barba admits they used to flirt, or Sonny did, at least. Then, Barba practically admits he misses Sonny’s oversharing. Then, for the big finish, Barba goes and asks Sonny about 34B, about that stupid pop-up, like it’s in any way relevant.

If Sonny didn’t know any better, he’d think Barba has been waiting to ask that question, for ‘about a month,’ and he thought a clumsy mention of their previous ‘flirting’ would be a good segue.

It’s not.

And Sonny doesn’t have a good answer.

“That wasn’t… That’s done. I don’t have a girlfriend. She wasn’t… She was somebody I knew from Fordham. We were friends. We are friends. We… We gave it a shot, tried dating, but it didn’t work out. That’s all.”

Sonny cringes at his own inability to string a sentence togeth-

“Oh? What happened?”

Barba is smiling again.

Nonchalantly.

His blatantly fake smile does nothing to conceal his interest. He’s been saying ‘no need to explain,’ over and over, to spare Sonny from further embarrassment, but that only applies to soul-baring confessions, apparently. When it comes to 34B, Barba seems pretty intent on getting a detailed explanation.

All Sonny can think to say is, ‘I’m too miserable,’ but he doesn’t think that would be enough to satisfy Barba’s curiosity.

“Well, if my existential monologues didn’t clue you in, Barba, I haven’t exactly been in the mood for romance lately. I mean, I’m not a monk, so I try, and sometimes it’s alright for a month or two, but then it fizzles. My heart’s not it in. I’m just… I’m not in a good place. I can’t be dating anybody right now. I need to figure myself out.”

Barba literally pouts.

“Aw. That’s unfortunate.”

Look at that. Sonny wasn’t expecting Barba to be so understandin-

“I’m sorry, did I say unfortunate? I meant unfortunately trite. How corny can you get, Carisi? Why not add, ‘it’s not you, it’s me,’ while you’re at it? You need to ‘figure yourself out’? That’s a terrible excuse. I hope it’s not what you told your friend.”

Sonny cracks up.

That is a terrible excuse. And it’s exactly what he told Claire. And Malia before her, and Paul before her.

None of them believed him, of course, but then none of them put up a fight.

They all reacted like they knew Sonny was blowing them off, but they didn’t care enough to ask for the truth.

Sonny didn’t care enough, either.

That’s the problem.

You gotta care to be honest.

How do you tell someone, ‘I have a temper, and sometimes everything sets me off’? How do you tell them, ‘None of this is your fault, but I’m probably gonna take it out on you anyway’? How do you say, ‘I’m having a tough time, and I’m angry, and you deserve better’?

You don’t.

You don’t say it.

Except Sonny just did. He just told Barba all about it.

Barba cared enough to ask.

Barba asked about Sonny’s guilt, about Sonny’s pain, about Bobby Bianchi, Barba asked about that job interview, about Sonny’s dreams, Barba asked about 34B, too, and Sonny answered every question honestly.

For the most part. There’s still things he hasn’t told Barb-

“Anyway. Enough about your love life, Carisi. Let’s talk about something less unfortunate.”

Sonny snorts.

“You’re casting a pretty wide net, there, counselor. Everything’s less unfortunate than my love life.”

Barba smirks like that’s a good thing.

“Point taken. I’m referring to your professional woes. You say you feel trapped here. Maybe we can fix that. You need experience to get a job as an A.D.A. We can fix that too. The best way would be for you to work as an attorney for a few years, but you say you’re not sure if you want to quit your job. At least not yet. Alright. Those are the facts. So…”

Barba looks strangely focused. His eyes are darting around, like he’s figuring out solutions and calculating all the possible outcomes.

Like he really wants to help.

To fix it.

To fix Sonny’s problems, at least those that can be fixed.

Sonny finds that touching. Barba has always shown him support, in smaller and bigger ways, sometimes generously and sometimes grudgingly, and this time is no different.

That’s a relief.

Sonny would hate to think his behavior ruined th-

“So. You’ll have to make a decision about leaving the force, sooner or later, but in the meantime I could ask Liv if she’d be willing to spare you more often, so you can observe more trials. It won’t be the same as firsthand experience, of course, and you can’t put it on your résumé, but it’ll be better than nothing. Better than you showing up in court only when you have to testify.

“You can watch me work more closely. More extensively. And some of the other A.D.A.s, too. I can talk to them, explain the situation, so they’ll know to expect your questions. And I’ll try to be more available, too. I can teach you some of what I’ve learned. About the judges, or the jury. About the witnesses. About knowing when to attempt a Hail Mary and when to shut up.

“I think that could help, at least for a while. Until you decide what to do. That way you won’t feel like you’re wasting your time. How does that sound?”

Sonny smiles.

That hurts.

It sounds amazing, but it hurts.

Barba wants to help him.

Still.

Barba is the one who got him that job interview in the first place.

Barba has always seen Sonny’s potential, and maybe their personal relationship isn’t what it used to be, because Sonny is too angry for his own good, but that doesn’t mean that Barba will let him flounder.

“That sounds great. Thank you, counselor. I appreciate it. Hey, can I shadow you again, too? I learned so much the last time.”

Barba grins, like that’s a good memory for him as well.

Sonny hopes it is. Working that case, side by side with Barba, it was the most fun he’s ever had on the job, in his entire life.

“No. I’m afraid not, Carisi. Fun as that was, it wouldn’t be appropriate to repeat it. You’re not a law student anymore. You’re just a detective.”

That makes sens-

“For now.”

There it is again.

Barba, seeing Sonny’s potential.

It would be heartwarming if it didn’t hurt so much. Sonny thinks h-

“Of course, if you decide to leave the force, that’s a different story. You could shadow me, as a young attorney. And then, if you decide to go into private practice for a while, that could be arranged. I know a lot of people. With your experience as an SVU detective, I’m sure we could find a spot for you at a criminal law firm.”

Barba makes everything sound so easy.

When Sonny thinks about his future, he gets restless. That’s why he snaps. He feels stagnant, stuck in a bad place and going nowhere.

When Barba talks about it, it’s like a door opens.

Like there’s a way out.

Some problems can’t be fixed.

Sonny’s temper, maybe Sonny’s love life, too, they’re beyond salvation.

Barba seems determined to help him with the rest.

And it’s working.

With every word Barba says, that door opens up a little wider, and it’s making Sonny think he didn’t waste all those years studyin-

“So there’s no need to feel trapped. Okay, Carisi? You still have options. You still have time. And… And friends. Remember that. You still have friends. Maybe that can ease some of the pressure. Help with your anger.”

Oh.

This isn’t just about Sonny’s professional future.

Barba isn’t trying to help him get a job.

It’s not about that.

Barba is trying to help Sonny be less angry.

As a friend.

Barba wants to fix all of Sonny’s problems, apparently, even the ones that are beyond salvation, and that hurts, too.

Barba’s awkward smile, it hurts, because Sonny knows he’s done nothing to deserve it.

Not latel-

“Look, Carisi, I noticed you’ve been having some issues with your temper. I’m not blind. You were the happiest cop I’ve ever met, but your mood has been deteriorating for months. I just assumed it was because of the job. I, uh… Liv may have mentioned something to that effect. She said you told her that being a cop changes you for the worse.

“You weren’t wrong. You wouldn’t be the first bright-eyed rookie to get jaded after a couple of years at SVU. That’s why I helped you get that job interview in Brooklyn. I thought it would be a shame for such a…For such a kind person to, uh… I didn’t want you to lose that. That kindness.”

Sonny is speechless.

He never knew Barba’s reasons for setting up that interview. Or why it happened right after his very first outburst, his first relapse, during the Sean Roberts case. Sonny always wondered why Barba would do something that nice for him, practically five minutes after being yelled at.

Even then, Sonny felt stuck.

Angry.

He was starting to regret his decision to stay, after Dodds, after everyone kept acting like Dodds had never existed, Sonny was starting to think that letting his entire future hinge on that one loss was a bad idea.

Barba could see that.

Even then.

Barba was trying to give him options. The job interview, it ended up making things worse, because Sonny blew it, but Barba’s heart was in the right place.

Sonny smiles.

Barba has a heart.

Barba wanted to preserve Sonny’s ‘kindness.’ Whatever that means. Barba wanted to protect him, in some weird way, to shield him from further damage, and that’s beyond anything Sonny would ever expect from a colleague, or even a friend.

Sonny had no idea.

Knowing that, knowing somebody cared enough to do that, it’s uplifting. Knowing Barba cared enough to d-

“What I didn’t realize was that your temper issues predated your time at SVU. Had I known that, I would have… I would have… I don’t know. I would have handled things differently. I would have talked to you, instead of letting you freeze me out. We could have had this conversation sooner.”

Sonny thinks that would have been nice.

In another life.

“In your defense, counselor, I was hiding it pretty well. I had you thinkin’ I was a walking ray of sunshine. No way you could have known.”

Barba scoffs.

He looks irritated again.

Sonny knows what that means now.

“You weren’t hiding it, Carisi. You were managing it. Very well. For years. Which means you can manage it again.”

‘Again.’

Barba makes everything sound so easy.

Sonny can be kind again.

Calm, again.

The damage is done, it was done a long time ago, but Sonny was managing it. For years, Sonny was happy.

Maybe he can be happy again, too.

With Barba’s help.

When Barba talks, it’s like a door opens. Sonny has been trapped in a tiny, windowless room, and Barba’s support is opening the door, Barba’s smile is tearing down the walls, and the air comes in, and Sonny can see outside, again, like he used to, befor-

“I know we’ve drifted apart, Carisi. I know you’ve distanced yourself, but that doesn’t mean you can’t reach out to me. Even now. I’m intimately familiar with guilt, and resentment, and grief. And anger, as I’m sure you’ve noticed. If you want to talk, I’m here. If you have something to say, you can tell m-”

“I’m not over it.”

Barba is startled into silence.

Sonny doesn’t blame him.

That came out of nowhere. Sonny meant to say something else, something like, ‘Thank you,’ but that came out instead, and it’s too late to take it back.

So Sonny doubles down.

“You. I’m not over you.”

Barba stares, eyes wide, just like in that corridor, before everything fell apart.

“My infatuation. My feelings. Whatever you wanna call it. I’m not over you, Barba. Just so you know.”

“Oh.”

Barba is breathing very slowly.

He is very still.

Sonny can see his pulse, ticking, slowly, a small flicker flashing on Barba’s dark neck. His tan hasn’t even faded y-

“Is that why things didn’t work out between you and your friend?”

Sonny can’t believe this is Barba’s first question.

Sonny loves that this is Barba’s first question.

“Maybe. It’s… It’s just another reason why I’ve been so angry. ‘Cause I can’t get anything I want. I couldn’t get that job in Brooklyn, and I couldn’t get…”

Sonny couldn’t get Barba.

Or so he thought.

Sonny takes a deep breath.

“I admire you, counselor. I told you that, before. And I, uh, you know. I’m infatuated. With you.”

Barba lets out a huff of laughter.

Possibly because Sonny deemed it necessary to use air quotes around ‘infatuated.’

Whatever.

“Whatever. I just wanted to do you proud. I wanted a way out, like I said, ‘cause being a cop is taking a toll on me, and I wanted to make somethin’ of myself, I wanted to put my degree to good use, but I also wanted to do you proud. You got me that job interview, and you gave me a glowing recommendation, and don’t even bother denyin’ it ‘cause La Rossa told me, and then I let you down. And… That hit me kinda hard. I felt like I couldn’t look you in the eye, after that.”

“What?”

Barba looks horrified.

Like Sonny just said the craziest thing.

Sonny’s left eye twitches.

He’s an idiot.

Sonny wishes he could turn back time. He wants to go back to the very moment he got that stupid rejection email, and he wants to go tell Past Barba all about it. He wants to ask Past Barba out for a drink to commiserate, and he wants to whine, like a normal person, he wants Past Sonny to complain until Past Barba’s ears fall off. He wants to tell Past Sonny not to alienate himself, he wants to tell Past Sonny he has friends, he has a friend in Barba, he has more, in Barba, and he wants to erase the last six months from existence.

Unfortunately, that’s not an option.

What’s done is done, and now Sonny needs to move on.

This conversation, it’s a good start.

Sonny needs to finish it.

“Yeah. It all snowballed from there. I was angry ‘cause I was stuck at SVU, I was angry ‘cause I had a great opportunity to leave and I blew it, I was angry ‘cause I made you look bad to La Rossa and your old colleagues at the Brooklyn D.A.’s office. That’s why I never told you what happened. Because I knew… Because you… Because I knew you’d think less of me. I always wanted you to see me as an equal, and… And I wasn’t. I wasn’t good enough for that job. Or good enough for you.”

Barba doesn’t blink for what feels like ten minutes.

“That’s why you stopped spending time with me? Because you thought… Who said you’re not good enough for… Who said you let me down, Carisi? Who said we’re not equals? Where are you getting all this? I don’t recall you ever asking me. Don’t put words in my mouth.”

Sonny can’t resist.

“You mean words like, ‘Save it for night school,’ and ‘Booyah, Fordham Law,’ and, ‘Like a broken clock’?”

Barba sighs very aggressively.

“Don’t. Don’t try to change the subject. We’re not talking about your job performance anymore.”

Sonny’s heart starts pounding, and for once it’s not because he’s angry.

“We’re not?”

“No.”

Barba’s ‘no’ is immediate, and honest, and resolute.

Sonny decides to follow his example.

“Okay. I never asked you, ‘cause I didn’t wanna know. It was easier to assume you were gonna turn me down. I didn’t have to hear it. I didn’t wanna give myself one more reason to be mad. At you. At myself. You said it, I distanced myself, and you never made an effort to stop me, so I figured I was doin’ you a favor. I didn’t think you cared, Barba. Obviously, I was wrong. I know that now. Obviously you do care, so I w-”

“Hold on, Carisi. ‘Obviously’? I’m not sure what you think you know, especially since you seem to be so fond of jumping to conclusions, but I would be careful about making assumptions, if I were you.”

Sonny grins.

Just like that, they’re back to their old ways. Sonny, teasing Barba about having a heart, and Barba vehemently denying he has ever had a pulse.

Flirting.

Just like old times.

It feels so excruciatingly good.

So easy.

“It’s not an assumption. In this one conversation, you’ve been more of a friend to me than anybody else. Even though I haven’t been much of a friend to you. I’ve been avoiding you, for months. When we do talk, half the time I end up flying off the handle for no reason.

“I’ve been acting like we’re strangers. I’ve been acting like I didn’t spend two years trying to please you. Like I didn’t lose ten years of my life, when I heard you were getting death threats. Like I didn’t spend two weeks without sleep, until we caught the guys who hired Heredio to stalk you.

“I haven’t been a friend to you, Barba, but you still want to help me. So yeah. You care about me. Obviously. I’m an idiot for thinking you didn’t.”

Barba purses his lips, like he’s trying not to smile.

Like he’s trying not to show his delight, in hearing Sonny putting it all out there.

Like he’s trying not to agree. Like he really wants to say that, yes, Sonny is an idiot, but he knows he can’t, because then he’d be admitting that he does care, and that’s not gonna happ-

“You are an idiot.”

Sonny has never been happier to be called an idiot, in his entire life.

“Alright. Good. So, can I ask you now?”

Barba’s right eyebrow rises, like a dare.

“Ask me what?”

Sonny rolls his eyes.

“Can I ask if you if, uh… If I… Um.”

Dammit.

And Sonny was doing so well.

He’s been honest with Barba so far, for the most part, but there’s one last thing he needs to confess.

“I wanna ask you what I was gonna ask, if I’d gotten the job. I told you I had plans, counselor. Becoming an A.D.A. was just part of them. See, if I weren’t with Manhattan SVU anymore, if I were working in a different borough, there wouldn’t be a conflict of interest. If we, uh. You know. If you and me were to, uh…”

Barba smirks.

“You and I.”

Just like old times.

“Yeah, yeah. You and I. There wouldn’t be a conflict of interest if you and I were to start dating. Now, I’m still a cop, and technically we shouldn’t do this, but I’m askin’ anyway. And I’m hoping you can forget the last six months ever happened, ‘cause Lord knows I wouldn’t wanna date an asshole like me.”

Barba is pursing his lips again.

“But you want to date an asshole like me.”

Sonny laughs.

He missed this.

So much.

Sonny let his anger overwhelm him, Sonny let his anger deprive him of pleasures like joy, and laughter, and Barba’s jokes, and hope, but maybe he can be happy again. He already feels calmer than he has in months.

Free.

Sonny feels free.

“I’d be honored to date an asshole like you, Barba. So, what do you say? Do I have a shot?”

Barba smiles in a way he hasn’t, for a very long time.

With affection.

“Well, I’d say you’re a well-rounded applicant, with excellent credentials, but I fear you might lack the necessary experience.”

Sonny knows rejection when he sees it.

This isn’t it.

Barba is teasing.

Just like Sonny suspected, Barba did read that email from the Brooklyn D.A.’s office, and now he’s even quoting it, on purpose, just to tease Sonny.

Even so, Sonny can’t bring himself to get mad.

Which is a first.

“I see how it is, Barba. I need some experience to date a man like you. Of course.”

Sonny had forgotten how much he loves Barba’s smug little smirks.

“I see you’re back to kissing my ass again, Carisi. The balance is restored.”

Sonny is back to flirting, actually, except this time he’s not relying on vague compliments and friendly smiles. He’s not making excuses about conflicts of interest. He’s not letting his temper dictate his life.

And he’s not taking Barba’s answer for granted, either.

This time Sonny is asking.

This time he’s holding the dice.

“Just for the record, what I lack in experience I make up for in enthusiasm.”

Barba actually licks his lips.

Sonny almost forgets what he was going to say next.

“That being said, I do have some experience. I just don’t know if you’ll find it up to your standards. Tell you what, if you need a reference, you can call Miss 34B. She can tell you all about it. Her name’s Claire, by the w-”

“That won’t be necessary.”

Barba can dish it out, but he can’t take it. His smirk is gone. He’s scowling.

He’s jealous.

He’s shooting Sonny a dirty look, and it’s exaggerated, because it’s supposed to be a joke, but Sonny knows it’s at least fifteen percent serious, if not more. Sonny knows Barba really did get a little bit jealous, and Sonny missed this so damn much.

Their banter.

Their closeness.

That tangible sense of hope that, any minute now, Barba just might kiss him, even if it’s never happened so far.

Sonny used to be in a constant state of hope.

He missed that.

He missed Barba.

“So, what’s it gonna be, counselor?”

Barba doesn’t answer immediately. He wants to make this difficult. Sonny knew it was a mistake to mention Claire ag-

“I didn’t hear a question.”

Of course.

“What, I gotta spell it out? Fine. Would you like to join me for a drink, Barba? Tonight? As soon as you’re done here? Think of it as an apology. For me bein’ an asshole to you, all this time.”

Barba makes a face.

“Can we stop with all this talk about assholes? You…”

Sonny regrets it literally as it happens, but a snort still escapes him.

Barba is not amused, at least going by the way he mutters, ‘Jesus Christ,’ under his breath. Which only makes Sonny want to laugh even hard-

“As I was saying, you made your point. You were going through a difficult time, and that affected your temper. It happens to the best of us. That doesn’t make you an asshole. It wasn’t even that bad. You only think it was, because you’re normally so sweet. Your version of being an asshole is me being slightly nicer than usual.”

Perspective.

Sonny needed to hear th-

“So stop beating yourself up over this. You have enough to feel guilty about. We all do. Forget about how your temper may have affected others. Focus on how it affected you. You don’t like yourself when you’re angry, so focus on that. Worry about that. Don’t worry about me. I don’t need an apology.”

Under any other circumstances, Sonny would be genuinely moved. Barba keeps proving just how much he cares, with every word that comes out of his mouth, and that’s kind of beautiful.

Under these circumstances, Sonny is distracted by the actual words coming out of Barba’s mouth.

He called Sonny sweet.

The Old Sonny, at least. Then again, the more they talk, the longer Barba smiles, the closer Barba gets to saying yes, the more the Old Sonny merges with the New.

There used to be one Sonny, for all seasons.

Maybe that can happen again.

On an unrelated note, Sonny is pretty sure Barba paraphrased The Hulk, right in the middle of that compassionate speech, and that’s kind of beautiful, too, in its own way, and Sonn-

“But to answer your question, yes, I will join you for a drink. And I’m buying. We can celebrate my return, after that brief suspension. Think of it as proof I actually wanted to keep my job. Or, I don’t know. Proof I might actually be happy, after all.”

Sonny doesn’t know what to say.

He made Barba happy.

Just now, with that poorly worded invitation to get a drink.

With this entire conversation, maybe.

That’s what Barba meant.

They talked, and they explained, and they flirted, and now Barba ‘might actually be happy.’

Barba wasn’t happy before.

Sonny wasn’t happy either.

Sonny has to struggle to remember the last time he felt happy, before walking into Barba’s office this afternoon.

It was probably at that bar, after Mike’s funeral, after the death threats, when Barba smiled and said, ‘I’m not worried. Not in here,’ and then they clinked their glasses.

Sonny was a mess, that day, but that gave him an overwhelming sense of joy.

Knowing that Barba felt safe with him.

That’s what Barba meant.

‘I’m not worried. Not in here. Not with you.’

That was a long time ago.

Months and months.

That’s a long time to be unhappy.

Even if you’re used to it, like Sonny is.

Or was.

Barba made him happy.

Just now.

Just talking.

Just saying, ‘yes.’

It doesn’t take much to make either of them happy, apparently. Sonny wishes they had figured that out sooner.

Better late than never.

Plus, if they’re happy now, Sonny can only imagine how they’ll feel when they’re on their date, later tonight. A few drinks in, at a quiet bar, sitting as close as the seats will allow, and leaning in, maybe, and th-

“Let’s go, Carisi.”

Sonny is caught off guard, right in the middle of a daydream, and he gets weirdly nostalgic, because that used to happen all the time.

It takes him a moment to understand what Barba is saying.

There won’t be a ‘later tonight.’ Barba wants them to leave for their date immediately.

“Go? What, right now? We can’t just go. It’s barely six o’clock.”

Barba gives Sonny a deadpan look, and Sonny can just hear the unspoken, ‘Thank you, Carisi, but I can tell time,’ and that feels pretty nostalgic too.

Just like old times.

“Yes, Carisi. Right now. I don’t have to clock out. I can just take the rest of the afternoon off. The perks of being an A.D.A. You wouldn’t know.”

Sonny laughs.

Sonny laughs as Barba stands up and puts on his jacket.

Sonny laughs and stares, noticing just how tight Barba’s shirt is on him, and how the suspenders are accentuating his chest.

Sonny doesn’t know how he lived without this, for six whole months.

And by ‘this’ he means both ogling at Barba, and laughing.

Sonny hasn’t laughed freely in a long time. Not without holding back. Not without consciously ignoring his burdens.

Maybe that’s why it’s flooding out, now.

Why it seems so easy, now, even as Barba is joking about the benefits of the job Sonny couldn’t get. A week ago, a day ago, even, that would have set him off.

Now, Sonny can laugh about it.

It wasn’t even that funny of a joke, but Sonny is happy, and that’s enough. It’s enough to know that Barba isn’t flaunting, he’s teasing, and he cares about Sonny, and Sonny can laugh now.

Sonny isn’t angry anymore.

That’s enough.

Of course, knowing that he’s about to go on a date with Barba doesn’t hurt either.

Speaking of, Sonny really needs to get a move on, because Barba is ready to go, coat and scarf and briefcase and all, and he’s still sitting on that same chair with a doting smile on his face, a leftover from the laughter.

Barba is smiling too, as he waits for Sonny to get up.

Sonny missed this.

The smiles.

The fond looks.

Those silent moments of waiting for something.

The long hours he used to spend in Barba’s office, staring, and trying to pay attention, and daydreaming about what might happen, if he ever made a move.

Or if Barba ever made a move. That was always more intense, in Sonny’s head. It was always out of the blue, and passionate, and mind-blowing.

Sonny wonders how he ever got any work done.

Wait.

Work.

Sonny is just now realizing that, unlike Barba, he is not, in fact, an A.D.A. and he does, in fact, need to clock out.

“Um, I still have a couple of hours left until the end of my shift, Barba. I can’t just take off without tellin’ anybody.”

Barba smirks.

Probably because, despite the feeble protest, Sonny still got up, and put on his coat, and is practically with one foot out the door.

Sonny isn’t missing out on this date for nothing. He’ll just call in sick. Liv won’t m-

“Oh? What did you tell Liv, by the way? About this meeting? Let me guess. ‘Sorry, I’ll need an hour to cuss Barba out, but then I’ll be right back to finish my shift.’ How dedicated. At any rate, don’t worry about Liv. I’ll just text her on the way. Tell her it’s my fault you’re not coming back. Tell her I kept you busy and we lost track of time.”

Barba’s smirk makes that sound a lot dirtier than it should.

Also, Sonny simply told Liv he needed to ‘talk’ to Barba, and that wasn’t a lie, even though Barba’s version would have been a lot more truthful and a little mor-

“Have you eaten yet, Carisi? Probably not. Where would you find the time? You’ve been too busy seething all day. That burns a lot of calories, you know. That’s how I maintain my willowy form.”

Sonny is laughing again. Twice in a couple of minutes.

Not because Barba basically asked him out to dinner.

Not because Barba made a joke about that not-so-willowy form Sonny is particularly fond of.

It wasn’t even that funny of a joke.

Sonny is laughing because Barba joked about his temper.

Casually.

As a friend.

As more than that.

Sonny was always worried that confiding in people about his anger would change things.

He was worried he’d be treated with kid gloves, afterwards. He was worried he’d see pity in the eyes of friends. Or judgment. Or fear, like he has in the past. He was worried he’d get one shot to explain, just one awkward conversation, and then nothing. And then, they’d never mention it again. And then, a polite nod, maybe, or an overly earnest look of sympathy and a total inability to relate.

It’s not easy to talk about these things, but it’s not easy to listen, either.

That’s why Sonny never told anybody before.

He always assumed people would rather avoid the issue altogether.

Not Barba.

Barba is tackling it head-on.

Barba isn’t worried Sonny might get angry, or upset at the mere mention of it, and that thought gives Sonny an unexpected sense of relief.

Knowing that Barba won’t ignore that part of him, because it’d be more convenient to pretend their conversation never happened.

Knowing that Barba is willing to joke about it.

No kid gloves.

No pity.

No judgment.

No fear whatsoever.

Nothing’s changed between them.

Barba still teases Sonny, except now they’ve confided in each other, so Barba has even more ammo.

Maybe that’s changed.

They have the dirt on each other now, except it’s not really dirt, it’s just truth.

Not all change is bad.

They’re closer now, and Sonny welcomes it, because it means they can get personal with their teasing, they can mention his temper, or Barba’s little paunch, not that Sonny would ever joke about that, or th-

“Let’s have an early dinner, first. I think that’s a good idea. We shouldn’t drink on an empty stomach. Who knows what might happen if we were to get drunk?”

Another smirk.

That’s changed, too.

Barba never used to be so blatant with his innuendo.

Even when he’d get a little more daring, Barba would only use suggestive language when he was at a safe distance, usually sitting behind his desk.

Which was courteous, because it afforded Sonny the opportunity to blush semi-discreetly, and delude himself into thinking Barba wouldn’t notice. That desk, separating them, it allowed Sonny to avoid eye contact until the paleness had fully returned to his face.

That’s not possible right now.

Barba is looking directly into Sonny’s eyes.

He’s standing right in front of Sonny, barely a step away, and he’s looking up, and Sonny swears his smirk is ten times more potent from up-close.

His cologne, too.

By the way, just for the record, Sonny knows exactly what would happen if they were to get drunk. He’s pictured it, a million tim-

“Should I take your slack-jawed stare as a yes, Carisi?”

Just like old times.

Kind of.

Sonny got caught daydreaming again, but this time he has a comeback.

“Sure. Sure, counselor. It’s a yes. I mean, an ‘early dinner’ does sound kinda geriatric, but I get it. At your age, it’s recommended to have dinner at six o’clock at the latest. It’s better for your digestive system.”

Barba rolls his eyes.

Sonny missed this the most.

Barba’s fond eye-rolls.

Teasing Barba in return.

It’s fun to tease him back. Especially now, that they’re closer, and they can get personal with th-

“I really wish you hadn’t said that, Carisi.”

Oh.

Maybe they’re not that close, after all.

Wait.

They’re not.

They’re even closer.

Barba is taking that extra step, and there’s no more space between them, and they’re kissing.

Actually no, they’re not ‘kissing.’

They ‘kissed.’

Past tense.

It was over before Sonny even knew it started.

It was out of the blue, but it wasn’t passionate and it sure as hell wasn’t mind-blowing.

Sonny barely even felt it.

Barba planted one on him, a quick peck on the lips, and it’s over now, and Sonny is currently standing there, with his jaw to the floor, thinking about how the last thing he did before their first kiss was joke about Barba’s hypothetical indigestion.

Very smooth.

Not that Barba is faring better. That wasn’t much of a first kiss. Barba was pretty cavalier up until a moment ago, smirking and kissing Sonny all casual and easy, but after that dud, he looks almost timid.

For some stupid reason.

As if Sonny didn’t love every second of that kiss he doesn’t even remember.

Which is fine.

It’s all the more reason to kiss Barba again.

And that’s exactly what Sonny does.

Sonny goes for it, he leans in, and the last thing he sees before he closes his eyes is the return of Barba’s smirk.

The last thing he hears is a small thud, and he guesses it’s Barba’s briefcase, dropping to the floor.

The last thing he feels is Barba’s hands on his jaw.

And then they kiss.

Again.

It’s not a deep kiss. It’s soft, and slow, and Sonny can feel Barba’s fingers moving to the back of his neck, pulling him closer, he can feel Barba’s chest, rising and falling, against his own, he can feel Barba’s stubble, against is face, Sonny can feel Barba’s tongue brushing against his lips, and this is pretty mind-blowing.

And then Sonny wraps his arms around Barba’s waist, and he squeezes, and Barba moans, low, right into Sonny’s mouth, and if Sonny thought he was happy before, he was sorely mistaken.

And then it ends again.

The kiss ends.

Fortunately, Barba lingers this time.

Their faces stay touching. Their noses stay buried in each other’s cheeks. Sonny can feel Barba’s breath, coming and going, a warm beat against his lips. With each breath, Sonny feels a tiny shred of anger, evaporating.

Leftovers.

It’s like Barba’s breath is cleansing him. Every part of him.

Sonny hasn’t felt this calm in years.

And then Barba leans in for more, nose rubbing against Sonny’s, head tilting to switch sides, and this kiss does get deep, and passionate, and Barba keeps sucking on Sonny’s bottom lip, and tugging at the hair on the nape of Sonny’s neck, Barba keeps moaning, getting louder the longer they kiss, getting closer, the longer they kiss, Barba keeps pressing against Sonny, and then Sonny no longer feels calm.

In a good way.

For once.

Sonny doesn’t th-

“Alright. Now that we got that out of the way, can we go have dinner? It’s after six. We’re cutting it close. I don’t like to gamble when it comes to my digestive health.”

Sonny laughs.

Again.

How could he not?

How could Sonny not laugh, when Barba looks so happy?

Sonny keeps laughing as Barba picks up his briefcase and they leave his office.

Together.

Sort of.

Barba lags behind, just a few steps, and Sonny turns around in time to see him talking to Carmen.

“I’ll be taking the rest of the day off. Cancel my 7 o’clock with Harrison’s attorney. Don’t reschedule yet. Let them sweat. I’ll see you tomorrow morning.”

Simple as that.

Maybe someday, maybe in a year or three, Sonny will be doing that too. Enjoying the perks of being an A.D.A. Cancelling meetings, and letting scumbags sweat, just so he can go on a date. With Barba, hopefully. If he’s lucky. If Barba is lucky, maybe they can still have early dinners together, years from n-

“Of course. Have a nice evening, Mr. Barba. Detective, you too.”

Sonny grins.

Carmen totally knows, going by her fleeting smile.

And Barba knows that she knows, going by his fleeting scowl.

Sonny decides to push his luck and say something ‘funny,’ like he used to.

That’s another thing Sonny missed. His own terrible jokes. Is that weird?

Probably.

Sonny is about to tell Carmen he’ll take real good care of her boss, when he feels warmth, on the small of his back.

It’s Barba’s hand.

Leading him outside.

It’s possible Barba could tell Sonny was about to say something dumb, and the hand is meant to shush him.

It’s also possible that Barba just wanted to touch Sonny.

Sonny doesn’t know which explanation he prefers.

He just knows he’s grinning even wider, as Barba catches up to him and they walk away, side by side.

He just knows they’re going on a date.

An early dinner, and then drinks, and then God knows what.

Actually, Sonny knows exactly what.

He’s pictured it a million times.

~ ~ ~

Sonny can’t sit still.

He’s too impatient.

Too energized.

Too happy.

It’s a slow day, and it’s still early, and he’s been trying to distract himself with a crossword puzzle, but it’s not really working.

Mostly because he gets stuck on every other word.

Sonny never liked crossword puzzles.

Still, it’s a better distraction than most. It looks professional, at least, when he’s on his desk, pen in hand, jotting something down every few seconds. It sure beats him playing a random game on his phone, and looking like he’s goofing off on the job.

Sonny isn’t goofing off. As soon as they get a case, he’ll get right on it, with his usual dedication.

Just without his usual anger.

Until then, this is a slow day, and it’s still early, and Sonny is impatient, and he’s stuck on another word again, and he needs to get up to stretch his legs.

The first thing he sees, as he paces across the station, is Fin, looking antsy.

Antsier than Sonny, even.

Which makes him an even better distraction.

“Hey, any word?”

“No. Stop asking?”

Whoa.

That Sergeant’s exam is sure making Fin lose his cool.

Sonny is kind of glad to see this new side of him. It’s a pleasant surprise. It’s good to know that Sonny wasn’t the exception, when he was freaking out about the results of the bar exam. It’s good to know that even a guy like Fin can get nervous.

It’s almost cute.

In fact, if Fin weren’t Fin, Sonny would tell him just that.

As it is, Sonny just shrugs.

“Alright. It’s just, you know. Sergeant Tutuola’s got a nice ring to it.”

Fin’s glare is enough to get Sonny to turn on his heel.

Sonny is so eager to retreat, that he almost bumps into Jeff from Booking.

Which might be a good thing.

“Hey, what is a ten-letter word for ‘bad luck’?”

Jeff doesn’t seem inclined to help.

Either that, or he’s just as bad at crosswords as Sonny is.

Unfortunately, without Jeff’s help, Sonny is gonna be stuck on that damn word for a whil-

“Misfortune.”

Liv to the rescue.

As always.

Sonny goes back to his desk and fills in the word with enthusiasm. It’s a long one, which means it’s gonna help him figure out a bunch of the other words, too.

And that’s enough to put a smile on his face, apparently.

At least when he’s in a good mood.

And Sonny is in a great mood.

He has another date with Barba.

A late dinner, this time.

At Sonny’s place.

That’s what’s got him all invigorated.

And jittery.

And happy.

It’s a slow day, and it’s still early, and Sonny is happy, and his date with Barba isn’t for another eight hours, and he’s been trying to distract himself with a crossword puzzle, but it’s not really working, because this time it’s gonna be differen-

Sonny’s phone buzzes.

He knows it’s Barba before he even looks.

‘Do you want me to ask Liv to let you off early?’

Oh.

That’s promising.

Probably.

Sonny grins as he types.

‘Why? You can’t wait to see me?’

Sonny counts the seconds until Barba’s next text.

Not in anticipation. He just wants to know how long Barba’s eye-roll will last.

Fourteen seconds.

‘I can wait just fine, Sonny. I just want to make sure you’ll have enough time to cook. You know I can’t eat after six. Unless you want to give me heartburn.’

Sonny doesn’t even know where to start.

Barba calls him ‘Sonny’ now.

That’s a good starting point.

And they have an inside joke.

At least that’s what Sonny likes to call it, even though he knows Barba is just rubbing it in. The fact Sonny saw it fit to call him ‘geriatric’ when they were about to kiss.

In Sonny’s defense, he didn’t know that at the time.

Hell, he barely knew they were kissing while it was happening.

Truth be told, Sonny has teased Barba about that fiasco of a first kiss plenty of times, so he figures it’s only fair if he catches a little grief, too.

Also, yes, Sonny is cooking tonight. And he is beyond ready.

And beyond jittery. Like, way beyond.

‘Don’t you worry, Barba. I got the groceries in the fridge, and I finished my meal prep this morning. Dinner will be on your plate by 5:59.’

Sonny still calls him Barba.

It just feels right.

Also, yes, Sonny did wake up one hour earlier, just to chop up some vegetables and make a marinade.

Only the best for Barb-

‘Meal prep? Is that why it took you over a month to cook for me? You needed all that time to prepare?’

Sonny would be hard-pressed to say no.

He did promise to cook for Barba a while ago. On their very first date, in fact, right after Barba complained his chicken was dry, within earshot of their waiter, in classic Barba style.

The thing is, Barba isn’t wrong.

It takes time to plan a fancy meal.

And it’s going to be very fancy, thank-you-very-much. Barba is clearly a harsh critic, in everything from fashion, to literature, to legal arguments, to classic Italian meals, and Sonny wants to make a good first impression. He just hasn’t had time to cook anything intricate, before tonight. Sonny didn’t want to make a quick pasta for Barba, like he does for all his friends.

Barba deserves a four-course meal.

And it takes time to enjoy a fancy meal, too.

On some days, Sonny and Barba barely have time to eat. Food tends to take a backseat when you’re only free for an hour or two. Sharing a meal can be fun, but they usually prefer to spend their time together a little more creatively.

They’ve actually cancelled four separate dinner dates because of work. The first time, Sonny was all torn up, until Barba said he’d drop by with a pizza, as soon as he was done.

They’ve been having a lot of pizza, this past month.

It’s time for a home-cooked meal.

‘Only the best for you, Barba.’

Sonny stares at his phone for a few seconds, even though he knows it’s no use.

Barba won’t text back.

He won’t send a, ‘See you tonight,’ or a, ‘Looking forward to it,’ or a, ‘Thank you for offering to make dinner, Sonny,’ or even a, ‘Have a nice day,’ like a normal person might.

Like a normal boyfriend might.

That’s Barba’s thing, apparently. He always does this. He doesn’t bother to send a simple, ‘Okay,’ sometimes, even when the conversation requires it. Whenever Sonny asks about it later, he always says, ‘It’s implied, Sonny,’ or, ‘I have better things to do than send you single-word texts.’

Unfortunately, that’s information Sonny didn’t have when they first started dating. He is mildly ashamed to admit that, on the morning after their first date, he sent a desperate, ‘You there, Barba?’ after twenty minutes of getting no response.

Barba immediately replied, ‘Yes.’

Period and all. Just to make a point.

Sonny knows better now.

That’s the real dirt on Barba. He doesn’t text back.

Which is a small price to pay, if you want to call him your boyfriend.

Not that Sonny does that.

Not out loud.

Not yet.

Anyway.

It’s back to the crossword puzzle.

Actually, maybe Sonny should go bug Fin again. It’s been a few minutes. Maybe the exam results were posted while he was texting Barba.

It’s worth a shot. If only to see Fin’s expression when he tells Sonny to buzz off.

Sonny missed that too.

Not being told to buzz off, of course. Not exactly.

Sonny just missed going around the precinct and annoying everybody with his eagerness.

With his happiness.

He used to do that all the time.

Sonny was pretty happy. For years.

And now he’s happy again, and he’s back to bouncing off the walls with a grin on his face.

All day long.

All month long.

Why stop now?

Fin looks distracted with a phone call, so Sonny tries to get up as discreetly as he can. He figures it’s better if Fin doesn’t see him coming.

No such luck.

Fin cuts him off with a sharp glare.

Sonny sits his ass back down.

The crossword it is.

What’s a seven-letter word for t-

Wait.

Another text.

A whopping seven minutes later.

Maybe Barba is learning to be a little more demonstrative.

‘I spoke to A.D.A. Mendez, she’s fine with you observing her on Thursday, on that double homicide trial, as long as you clear it with Liv first. You need to broaden your horizons, Sonny. Criminal Law isn’t just Special Victims.’

Or not.

Sonny smiles, anyway.

Barba is still helping him.

Barba is fixing all of Sonny’s problems, even those that seemed like they were beyond salvation.

The door is open.

There’s a way out, now.

Sonny is on his way out.

Out of that slump.

He feels happy now, because his previously unfortunate love life has suddenly picked up, and because he’s broadening his horizons professionally, and because things are going well, all courtesy of Barba, the love life especially, but Sonny knows he’s not done struggling.

Things won’t always go well.

Maybe Sonny will strike out on another job.

He probably will.

Maybe there’ll be another bad case.

There will definitely be another bad case.

Maybe Barba won’t always be there.

It’s certainly possible, likely, even, and Sonny needs to be ready to handle th-

‘See you tonight, Sonny. And I hope you haven’t made dessert. I made flan. My mother’s recipe.’

Oh.

Barba made flan.

His mother’s recipe.

For Sonny.

Also, and perhaps more importantly, he texted back.

Maybe Barba leaving is not that likely.

Sonny will be ready, either way.

For everything.

For good things, too.

Sonny had forgotten what it’s like to look forward to something.

To hope.

He remembers, now.

He hopes Barba will like his cooking.

He looks forward to trying Barba’s flan.

Happiness can be found anywhere.

Sonny remembers, now.

Barba opened that door, but Sonny will make sure it stays open.

‘I can’t wait.’

#barisi #sonny carisi #rafael barba #svu #episode tag #after about a million years #but it's a long one #and it deals with this entire season #and the canon status of barisi #this is fully canon compliant btw #oh and #rejected titles for this were #continuity #and #shade #make of that what you will #i love you all

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