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"I mean, I know my mom can blow things out of proportion sometimes. But I told her that she was--Amy?" Sonny interrupted himself, eyes fixed on someone behind Rafael. He was sliding out of his seat a second later, leaving Rafael to turn and watch as he embraced a petite, dark haired woman next to the hostess stand.

"Sonny! I didn't even recognize you without the mustache," she said, holding him at arm's length to look him over. "Wow. What are you doing back in Brooklyn?"

"Just grabbing a bite to eat," he said, leading her back to the table. "Amy, this is Rafael Barba. Rafael, this is my old partner, Amy Santiago. I taught her everything she knows."

"More like I taught you everything you know," Amy said, elbowing him. "You didn't have any of the 2010 crime stats memorized when you started in the Nine-Nine! It was so embarrassing," she confided to Rafael, like Sonny wasn't even right there.

 

(Or, Five times Sonny ran into someone from the Nine-Nine and one time Barba did.)

Notes:

Because really, if there’s one precinct where Carisi would have fit in, it’s the Nine-Nine.

Thanks to can_i_poke_it_with_a_stick for reading this chapter by chapter, cheering me along, sending me great Carisi/Barba gifs, and, yes, poking me with a stick whenever I got bogged down. I suppose it’s a fair trade for me getting her hooked on SVU and these two dorks in the first place.

Edited to add: YESSSSSSSS THIS IS MY THESIS Thank you, tumblr. You're beautiful. Never change.

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1.

"I mean, I know my mom can blow things out of proportion sometimes. But I told her that she was--Amy?" Sonny interrupted himself, eyes fixed on someone behind Rafael. He was sliding out of his seat a second later, leaving Rafael to turn and watch as he embraced a petite, dark haired woman next to the hostess stand.

"Sonny! I didn't even recognize you without the mustache," she said, holding him at arm's length to look him over. "Wow. What are you doing back in Brooklyn?"

"Just grabbing a bite to eat," he said, leading her back to the table. "Amy, this is Rafael Barba. Rafael, this is my old partner, Amy Santiago. I taught her everything she knows."

"More like I taught you everything you know," Amy said, elbowing him. "You didn't have any of the 2010 crime stats memorized when you started in the Nine-Nine! It was so embarrassing," she confided to Rafael, like Sonny wasn't even right there.

Sonny shrugged easily. "Why did I need to memorize them, when I had you, huh? Anyway, how've you been? You look great." It was a sincere compliment, Rafael realized, but it wasn't flirtatious. "You on a date or something?"

"Yeah, I--" Amy stopped herself, blinking up at him. "Oh. Oh no. Um. I, um, just realized that I forgot to leave a key for my, uh, dog walker. I have to go!"

"Aren't you super allergic to dogs?" Sonny asked, tilting his head.

"I'm working on it. I can go twenty whole minutes without going into anaphylactic shock! Which is why I have to go, otherwise my dog walker might leave my dog in my apartment and then--" She puffed out her cheeks and gestured at her face with both hands. "It was nice to meet you, hopefully we'll meet again sometime," she said to Rafael. "Bye Sonny! Call me sometime, we'll get lunch!" And with that, she disappeared back out the door.

"...That was strange," Rafael said, although he was also relieved; he and Sonny hadn't really told anyone about their relationship yet, which is part of why they'd come all the way to Brooklyn for dinner.

Sonny shrugged, sliding back into the booth. "Santiago's great, but she's a terrible liar. Not quite sure what spooked her, though."

"Maybe you know the person she has a date with," Rafael suggested.

"There's nobody that I can..." Sonny frowned thoughtfully—and then his eyes widened. "Oh my god, I wonder if she's going out with Boyle!"

 

2.

Rafael had almost forgotten about their run-in with Sonny's erstwhile partner, which in hindsight was why he’d agreed to meet him in Brooklyn again. This time they hadn't even made it to their seats when he heard someone shout "Carisi in the HIZZOUSE!"

Rafael turned to look at Sonny, who shrugged sheepishly and stepped past him to throw his arms around a lanky guy with questionable fashion sense. They broke apart, only to follow it up with some sort of complicated multi-part handshake/high five combo. By the end of it, Rafael was ready to pretend he didn't know either of them, and he hadn't even met the guy. Before he could will himself incorporeal, Sonny had the other guy corralled with an arm slung around his shoulders and was towing him back to Rafael. "Rafael, this is Detective Jake Peralta, also of the Nine-Nine. Jake, this is Rafael Barba."

"Jake Peralta," the other guy said, worming a hand free from between him and Sonny to offer it to Rafael to shake. "Although he already said that." He paused mid-handshake, not letting go of Rafael's hand. "Wait, Barba?"

We are never coming to Brooklyn again, Rafael thought darkly. "That's right."

"Like, the prosecutor?" Jake pressed.

"Yeah," Sonny said, and he looked proudly at Rafael. "He's an ADA in Manhattan."

"And before that, I was an ADA in Brooklyn," Rafael said, deciding to just rip the bandage off all at once.

"No way!" Jake said at the same time as Sonny said "Wait, you were?"

“You’re Barba the Cobra!” Jake said, clearly shifting into fanboy mode. Sonny mouthed Barba the Cobra? at Rafael, who winced. Now he remembered why the 99th Precinct sounded familiar. "You put away the Sunny D Arsonist! And the Humane Society Catburglar--although I never quite liked that name, since she was also stealing dogs and ferrets and, if I remember correctly, a turtle."

"The Humane Society Catburglar?" Sonny asked, looking at Rafael, amused.

"I believe in her case she received community service and counseling," Rafael said, finally managing to extricate his hand from Jake's. "Since she thought she was freeing the animals from being hypnotized and enslaved to spy on her neighborhood bodega."

"Oh my god, how could I forget, that was the best part!" Jake said. He looked at Sonny. "She thought that the shelter was being run by aliens. Speaking of aliens, please tell me that your mustache was abducted by them and is now traveling around the galaxy having awesome adventures, because otherwise I'm not sure if I can handle the sight of your naked upper lip."

Sonny touched his mouth self-consciously. "No aliens," he admitted. "It just felt like it was time for it to go. You know how fancy they are in Manhattan."

"Oh man, that is tragic," Jake said, turning back to Rafael. "At least tell me you had the opportunity to see this man's bromerang in action."

"Once or twice," Rafael admitted, wincing inwardly at the term 'bromerang.'

"So you agree it was legendary," Jake said.

Rafael bit back a snort. "It was something," he said; he'd learned early on that Sonny had been quite proud of his mustache, and so generally he held off on being a jerk about it.

"Yes, yes it was," Jake replied, satisfied. "So, buddy, how's Manhattan? I mean, obviously, it's nothing like the Nine-Nine."

"No place is like the Nine-Nine," Sonny said. "But Manhattan, it's pretty good. Although it's kind of weird having a boss who pays attention. There's a distinct lack of fire extinguisher races, if you know what I mean."

...No, Rafael decided, he wasn't going to ask.

"How're you?" Sonny continued. "How're things in Brooklyn? I mean, I know you guys have been devastated since I left, but really, it's okay, the period of mourning can probably end now."

"But black is so flattering on me," Jake laughed. "Oh, dude! I got to go undercover for, like, the whole summer last year! It was awesome!"

"No way!" Sonny said, high-fiving him. "Wait, let me guess. Prostitution ring?"

"Better."

"Drug mules?"

"Even better."

"Wait--" Sonny put up a hand. "You don't mean--"

"Mafia!" they both crowed at the same time.

"Oh my god," Sonny said, sounding wildly jealous. Rafael was never, ever going to understand why he thought going undercover was so cool. "Did you get the bust?"

Jake rolled his eyes. "Did I get the bust. Please."

"Nice work," Sonny told him sincerely. “That’s even better than my prostitution ring.”

As they continued to trade notes on going undercover, Rafael caught sight of a vaguely familiar figure standing frozen behind Peralta, eyes wide, like a deer in the headlights. She saw Rafael notice her and started to frantically gesture at him to not call attention to her, but it was too late—Sonny caught him looking and turned to follow his gaze. “Hey, Amy!” he said, interrupting Peralta—who also looked spooked, Rafael noticed.

“Amy!” Jake said, sounding overly loud and fake. “Fancy running into you here, at this restaurant that I happen to already be at. What are you doing here?”

Sonny glanced between them, then at Rafael, clearly putting the pieces together. “You guys, ah, meeting to talk about a case?”

Jake and Amy looked at each other, then looked back at Sonny. “Yep,” Jake said as Amy nodded vigorously. “That’s exactly what we’re doing. The, uh, Sunny Catburglar case.”

“I haven’t heard about that one,” Sonny said, one corner of his mouth pulling up into a crooked smile. “You’ll have to tell me all about it once you solve it.” He pretended to check his watch. “Hey, we should probably get going. I’m sure Rafael doesn’t need to hear any more stories from the old precinct, and you two have important police work to discuss.”

“Yep!” Amy said with false cheer. Rafael wanted to tell her she was trying too hard, but he suspected it was a lost cause. “Lots of important detective-ing.”

“That’s not a word,” Peralta snarked.

“Your face isn’t a word,” Amy shot back under her breath, then plastered on a smile for Rafael and Sonny. “It was great seeing you again! Let me know the next time you’re in Brooklyn!”

“Later, Sonny C!” Jake said as Amy grabbed him by the elbow and steered him towards an empty table on the other side of the restaurant.

“You used to work with those people?” Rafael said, watching them go.

“Yeah. They’re kind of an acquired taste,” Sonny shrugged. “But they’re all really good cops. The Nine-Nine was one of the best places I ever worked.” He gave Rafael a rueful look. “You’re not going to let me take you out again for like six months, are you?”

“Not in Brooklyn, at least,” Rafael replied.

Dinner was otherwise uneventful; none of Sonny’s other former coworkers materialized out of the ether, and Peralta and Santiago were already gone by the time they left. It wasn’t until they were walking into Rafael’s apartment that Sonny snorted at his phone, then held it up so that Rafael could see the text there.

Jake Peralta: OH MY GOD ARE YOU DATING BARBA THE COBRA

Before Rafael could say anything, another text came through.

Jake Peralta: THAT IS SOOOOOOO COOL

Sonny looked at the phone screen and laughed. “Like I said, they’re good people.”

“Is that why you didn’t call them out on their own date?” Rafael asked.

“Basically,” Sonny said. “That, and Jake and Amy have been, like, three years in the making now. I was a little afraid if I said anything that they might freak out and do something stupid, like decide everyone in New York knew, and break up.”

“They did seem rather invested in maintaining the illusion that they were just colleagues,” Rafael said, thinking of Amy’s bizarre disappearing act.

“Yeah. Plus, this way hopefully Jake won’t go telling everyone about us, since he’d have to admit he was on a date when he met you.” Sonny looked at his phone. “Although I’m sure he’s coming up with some way to tell everyone he met Barba the Cobra, which--”

Rafael held up a hand to stop him. “Don’t you dare.”

Sonny grinned and leaned in to kiss him. “Not even in bed?”

 

3.

They were getting take out at a little hole in the wall Afghani place in Queens, the kind of place that was barely big enough for two tables and a line of people picking up their food. Despite the less than upscale setting, though, the food was good and it was right around the corner from Sonny’s apartment, which meant that it was worth waiting in line for twenty minutes on a Friday night.

Or, at least, it was until they stepped inside and Sonny froze. The woman at the end of the line turned and looked at him, clearly sizing him up as she crossed her arms over her chest. “Sonny.”

“Rosa,” he said. This was new—Rafael had never seen him react so warily. Usually Sonny was all smiles when he ran into someone he knew. Was she an ex?

“You shaved your face,” Rosa said flatly, after a loaded pause. “Good. You look less like one of those stupid wind up monkey toys with the cymbals this way.”

Rafael snorted, and it drew Rosa’s attention. Rafael had been raised by two headstrong, take-no-prisoners, terrifying women, but he suddenly understood Sonny’s wariness as Rosa sized him up. “Who’s this?” she asked, jutting her chin in his direction.

“This is Rafael,” Sonny said. He nodded at the man standing next to Rosa, who, Rafael noted, appeared to be just as out of sorts in this conversation as Rafael was. “Who’s your friend?”

“This is Marcus,” Rosa said, after a long pause where she looked like she was weighing the cost of revealing her information. She glanced at him, then an oddly resigned look passed over her face. “He’s my boyfriend.”

“Hey, Marcus,” Sonny said, nodding at him. “Nice to meet you. I’m Sonny, this is Rafael. We’re dating,” he said to Rosa, and it sounded like a challenge. “He’s an ADA in Manhattan, works with my team on basically all of our cases.”

Rosa jerked a thumb at Marcus. “He’s my captain’s nephew.”

“Ouch,” Sonny said sympathetically. “You win.”

“Pay up,” Rosa said, holding out one hand expectantly. Sonny sighed and dug out his wallet, handing her a twenty. She smiled, then, and it was more terrifying than her resting I-will-eat-your-kidneys face. “Loser.”

“Um, babe, our food’s ready,” Marcus said, tapping her on the shoulder.

“Cool,” Rosa replied, eyes not leaving Sonny. “Good to see you, walrus lip.”

“Pleasure doing business with you,” Sonny said easily. “Nice to meet you, Marcus.”

“Nice to meet you guys,” Marcus said, and they were gone.

“Okay, what was that about?” Rafael asked.

“Rosa worked in my old precinct—yes, in Brooklyn,” Sonny said, and he looked sheepish. “We both kind of had a bad habit of dating the wrong people, so, I dunno, it turned into a kind of game. Whoever made the worse decision wins, basically.”

Rafael looked at him critically. “So you’re saying I’m a bad decision?”

“Aw, c’mon, Raf, I didn’t say that,” Sonny protested. “Just that, you know, it’s complicated. But man, Rosa…She’s the most private person I know. For her to be dating her captain’s nephew—that’s big. She must really like the guy.” He glanced at Rafael. “Same for a guy who’d date his ADA, or so I hear.”

“Flattery will get you nowhere,” Barba grumbled, but Sonny didn’t look fooled.

“You’re worth the trouble,” he said quietly, bumping their shoulders together. “Even if you’re not enough trouble to win me twenty bucks from Rosa.”

“Damn right I am,” Rafael said.

 

4.

“So what do you think?” Sonny asked as they stepped away from the hot dog cart. “This Miller guy, he’s got the jury eating out of his hand. He’s smart and charismatic.”

“Yes, but that may be what hangs him. He thinks he’s the smartest guy in the room,” Rafael said, unwrapping his hot dog. “I can use that.”

Sonny gave him a crooked smile, but before he could say anything, a voice from behind Rafael called “Sonny! Hey Sonny!”

“Let me guess,” Rafael said, eyeing the rueful look that crossed Sonny’s face, “another friend from Brooklyn.”

“I hadn’t seen any of them in two years before this, I swear,” Sonny muttered, turning. “Hey, Charles! How’s it going?”

“I never thought this day would come,” the man said, sounding almost breathless. “I mean, I’d heard the rumors, but I didn’t believe them. Sonny, this is truly tragic.”

“He’s talking about the mustache, isn’t he?” Rafael asked over his hot dog.

“Clearly, my friend, you never saw it,” the man said, turning towards him. “It was a thing of beauty.”

“Oh, I saw it,” Rafael murmured.

“Then you know how devastating this is,” the man countered. “Sonny, how could you? Has working in Manhattan changed you that much?”

“The point was made,” Sonny said, shrugging. “I figured three years was long enough.”

“I can’t believe I’m hearing this,” the man said. “I can’t believe you just—what, woke up one day and said to yourself, ‘I, Sonny Carisi, am tired of having the world’s greatest mustache’?”

Sonny looked almost sorry. “It happens, Charles. Besides, you and Jake shaved yours off after what, six months?”

“I have very delicate follicles, especially in summer,” Charles sniffed. “Maintaining my mustache was doing a number on my complexion.”

Sonny grinned at that but let it drop. “Charles, this is Rafael Barba, one of our ADAs. Rafael, this is Charles Boyle, detective with the Nine-Nine.”

Rafael made a neutral noise in greeting, chewing on his hot dog. “Nice to meet you,” Charles said. “Say, where’d you get those dogs—Sal’s stand? Ooh, bad call. Sal likes to keep his onions too close to the pickle relish, and I’ve seen him double dip with the sauerkraut tongs.”

“Charles has a food blog,” Sonny explained helpfully. “Speaking of, hey, I’m a little behind in my reading—did you try that pizza place I sent you?”

Charles grinned. “Did I ever!”

“So? Was I right?” Sonny asked.

“You were more than right, Sonny. That place was fantastic. I gave it four and a half slices on my blog.” He looked at Rafael. “Boyle’s Bites dot Blogpress dot com, by the way.”

“I’ll have to check it out,” Rafael said, intending to do nothing of the sort. “Anyway, I’m needed in court, so if you’ll excuse me—”

“Yeah, no, I should go too,” Sonny said apologetically to Charles. “Duty calls, and all that.”

“Of course, of course. It was great to see you!” Charles said cheerfully, but then his expression turned serious. Rafael thought he meant it to be intimidating. “Even if you did violate the sacred code of masculine expression.”

“Uh huh,” Sonny said, glancing at Rafael with a look that clearly said I don’t even. “If I ever grow it back, you’ll be the first to know.”

“Even before Jake?” Charles asked, looking hopeful.

Sonny nodded. “Even before Jake,” he promised.

“Great! Thanks, Sonny. I’ll see you around!” Charles said, and turned to walk away. He twisted around not a dozen steps later and called back, “Don’t forget! Boyle’s Bites dot Blogpress dot com!”

“Yeah, we got it,” Sonny called back. He glanced apologetically at Rafael. “Sorry. Boyle’s…”

“Let me guess,” Rafael said dryly. “He’s an acquired taste, but he’s a good cop.”

“Got it in one,” Sonny said. “Still, Boyle’s even weirder than the rest, but he’s a hard worker.”

“I’m not sure how you can tell, given the fire extinguisher races, food blogging and—apparently—mustache growing contests you seem to have engaged in,” Rafael needled.

Sonny just grinned, unrepentant. “Hey, we got the job done. It’s not like you can’t grow a mustache and arrest someone at the same time.”

 

5.

It was a beautiful day, one of those warm-but-not-too-warm days where spring started to bleed into summer, and Central Park was full of people. There was a comforting anonymity to be found in the crowd, and Rafael was reminded of why he loved New York—until he heard someone calling Sonny’s name.

“I’m beginning to think I should take out a restraining order on your old precinct,” Rafael said as a muscle-bound man waved frantically in their direction.

“I seriously don’t know how they’re doing this,” Sonny replied, sounding baffled. He raised his voice as they approached the man—and his twin preschoolers and very pregnant wife, Rafael realized. “Sarge? Is something the matter?”

“Yes!” the man said, grimacing. “I mean, no, but—Sharon’s pregnant!”

“…Yeah, I noticed that,” Sonny said after a beat. “Everything okay?”

“It’s great,” the sergeant said, “but her water just broke and we’ve gotta get to the hospital! The twins came within seventy-three minutes of her water breaking last time, Sonny—we’ve gotta move!”

“Okay, ah, do we need to call an ambulance?” Sonny asked.

“They’re on their way, but here’s the thing, my mother went shopping in New Jersey,” the sergeant explained. “She’s on her way back, but it’ll be at least an hour before she gets here and we can’t take Cagney and Lacey with us. Can you watch them until she gets here?”

“Sure, of course,” Sonny said before Rafael could open his mouth to argue—and also, Cagney and Lacey? Really? “Where should we meet her?”

Relief washed over the sergeant’s face. “I’ll tell her you’ll be at the Alice in Wonderland statue at 3 o’clock.” The sarge shoved a bag at Sonny. “There are toys and snacks in here. Now, Cagney and Lacey are allowed to have one snack that isn’t yogurt—they can always have yogurt. And if they—”

He was cut off by a groan from Sharon. “Terry,” she said urgently. Instantly, the sarge was at her side. In the distance, Rafael could hear sirens.

Everything happened quickly after that; a medic showed up on a bike and started speaking quickly into a radio, then an ambulance crew arrived. Before Rafael could quite wrap his head around the fact that yes, apparently Sonny’s old sergeant had just entrusted them with the soon-to-be oldest of his children, they’d whisked Sharon away, Terry holding her hand and keeping up a nonstop string of encouragement, Sonny and the girls waving after them.

Sonny and the girls. And Rafael. If it weren’t Sunday, he would claim an emergency in the courts, or a meeting with the mayor’s office, or—

Oh Christ. He couldn’t even claim a death in the family. Sonny knew better.

“Is Mama gonna be okay?” one of the girls asked, clinging to her sister’s hand.

“She is, I promise,” Sonny said, kneeling down so that he was on the same level as the twins. “Cagney, Lacey, my name is Sonny. I’m a police officer. I used to work with your father, back when you were babies.”

“Hi, Sonny,” the girls chorused.

“This is my friend Rafael,” Sonny said.

“Hi, Rafael,” they echoed. One of them squinted up at him. “Are you a police officer too?”

Sonny grinned. “No,” Rafael said, trying not to glare at him. “I’m a prosecutor.”

“Oh,” the girl said. “That sounds boring.”

“Aw, c’mon, you don’t even know what Rafael does,” Sonny said cajolingly, looking for all the world like he was trying not to laugh. “You know how your daddy and me catch the bad guys, right?” The girls both nodded, looking doubtful. “Rafael’s the one who goes to a judge and tells him, Your Honor, this person did a very bad thing and needs to go to jail. And he’s very good at it.”

The girls considered that. “That still sounds boring,” the other one said.

“That’s only because you’ve never seen him at work,” Sonny said, grinning up at Rafael. “Maybe one day you’ll get to come watch with me. Until then, though, we can do whatever we want until your grandmother gets here. Who wants to go to the zoo?”

The twins cheered, jumping up and down and shouting “I do!” like they were afraid that a crowd of preschoolers might magically appear and render them near to invisible.

“Okay,” Sonny said, straightening up. “Now, you have to hold hands so that no one gets lost. Rafael’s never been to the zoo here before,” he confided to them in a mock whisper, “so he doesn’t know the way.”

One of the girls dutifully took his hand in hers. It was sticky. “I’ll help you,” she said. Rafael wasn’t sure if she was Cagney or Lacey—or if those were even their actual names. Still, it appeared that he was going to spend the next hour or so with these two girls, no matter what. Might as well grin and bear it.

Besides, the little moppet had a freaking death grip on his hand. He wasn’t sure he could have escaped if he tried.

Sonny grinned at him again as they fell into step together, a twin on either side of them. “Are their names actually Cagney and Lacey?” Rafael muttered, because he had to know.

“Yup,” Sonny said, like it wasn’t the most ridiculous thing in the world. “We all thought they were just cute nicknames for the girls when they were embryos, but Sarge said they got used to them while Sharon was pregnant, so they just stuck.”

“What are they going to name this one? Barney Miller?” Rafael asked, voice dry.

Sonny snorted. “I’ll let you ask that, if you want.”

Rafael thought about it. Terry was a big man, and his shirt had only emphasized how muscular he was. “Mmm. Pass.”

The zoo was… okay, it was more fun than Rafael was expecting, even if he was vaguely terrified that one of the twins was going to fall into the bear habitat, or be carried off by leafcutter ants, or smear ice cream—because Sonny, unsurprisingly, was one of those indulgent uncle types—across his trousers. Sonny was right—Rafael had never gone to the Central Park Zoo, and while it wasn’t the Bronx Zoo, it was still a lot more interesting than he’d expected. Cagney might have clung to his hand a little more tightly when she caught sight of the snakes in the Tropics, but both of the girls were clearly also having a great time, chattering excitedly to each other and at Rafael and Sonny every time they saw a new animal, tugging at their hands to pull them to another exhibit.

By three o’clock, they’d made their way to the Alice in Wonderland statue. It was crawling with children, but the girls didn’t run off to play like Rafael expected. “We want yogurt,” Lacey said, tugging at Sonny’s hand.

“Yeah, Dad always lets us have yogurt,” Cagney joined in. “Can we have some? Pleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeease?”

“Of course,” Sonny said, swinging Terry’s bag from his shoulder and starting to dig through it. “Terry loves yogurt,” he said to Rafael matter-of-factly. Rafael waited for him to elaborate, but he didn’t, instead producing two tube-shaped plastic wrappers. “Alright, we’ve got raspberry and blueberry. Who wants what?”

Cagney took the blueberry and Lacey the raspberry. Rafael watched, almost fascinated, as Sonny carefully tore the top off of one tube, then the other, and gave them to the girls. “Hold them from the top,” he instructed, “up here, otherwise you’ll spill them.”

“What the hell is that?” Rafael asked him quietly.

“Gogurt,” Sonny said. “It’s kind of cool, because you can basically take it anywhere, but you gotta be careful otherwise they hold it from the bottom and it spills everywhere. It’s kind of the best invention since CapriSun, and also the worst.”

Rafael watched the girls carefully slurping on their yogurt tubes, kicking their dangling feet. “How did you learn all of this?” He didn’t just mean the Gogurt; Sonny had been great with the kids from the moment that Terry and Sharon had disappeared. He’d told them stories and sung funny songs with them, and had some preternatural sixth sense that told him when the girls were getting bored and it was time to move on to the next exhibit, or to take an ice cream break. Considering that Cagney and Lacey had basically been foisted upon them in the middle of an emergency, things had gone amazingly well.

Sonny shrugged, a small, pleased smile playing across his lips. “Big family. I’m pretty close with some of my cousins, and they have the cutest kids in the world—after Bella’s, of course. I dunno. In my family, everybody does everything together, so there’s always a million kids running around. You just help out.” One corner of his mouth pulled up in a wry twist. “Besides, kids are easier than adults, sometimes.”

There was something rueful there, and something deeper as well. Rafael couldn’t quite put his finger on it. He wasn’t given the chance, either; Cagney and Lacey had finished their yogurt and were pushing the empty wrappers at Sonny. “Can we go play?”

“They’re like kittens,” Sonny said to him. “Run around like crazy, take a break, run around like crazy again.” He took the girls over to the trash can, then found himself getting dragged onto the playground, one twin pulling on either hand. Sorry, he mouthed over his shoulder at Rafael.

The girls apparently wanted Sonny’s help climbing the statue. Rafael watched as he lifted each of them up onto a mushroom. Sonny was so relaxed, grinning and laughing with the girls as he helped them climb and explore the statue.

“They’re beautiful,” a woman next to Rafael said, breaking into his reverie.

He blinked. “I’m sorry?”

“You’ve got a beautiful family,” she said. She was angled towards the statue like she was watching a child of her own, pushing a stroller idly back and forth, no doubt rocking a baby. “You and your husband.”

“He’s not my—they’re not—those aren’t our kids,” Rafael said, thrown. “We’re, ah, babysitting for their parents.” They’re having a baby, he almost added, except that this woman didn’t need to know anything about them.

“Ah. Well, they’re still beautiful children,” she said. “Do you have children of your own?”

Rafael shook his head, biting back the urge to give her the cold shoulder. “No, we don’t.”

“That’s a shame. He’s a natural,” she said, nodding at Sonny. “You two would be good parents.”

Thank you, Rafael snarked to himself. We’ll take your opinions under advisement, random stranger in the park. Still, it was better than everyone assuming they were pedophiles simply because they were queer. He was saved from having to come up with something to say to her by the arrival of a woman who stopped at the edge of the plaza, about thirty feet away, and called “Cagney! Lacey!”

“Grandma!” the girls shouted in unison. Cagney was so excited that she launched herself from the topmost mushroom, and only Sonny’s quick reflexes kept her from landing flat on her face. He set her down gently, then helped Lacey down.

“If you’ll excuse me,” Rafael said to the woman with the stroller, already walking to meet Sonny and the girls.

The handoff went smoothly, and the girls’ grandmother already had a picture of the new baby to show them on her iPhone. “Here’s little TJ,” she said proudly. The kid was basically a wrinkly, grumpy face in a blanket, but Rafael made the appropriate congratulatory noises anyway.

“TJ, like Terry Junior?” Sonny asked.

The look Mrs. Jeffords gave him clearly said My son trusted you to watch his babies? “TJ like Hooker, of course.”

“Oh, yeah, absolutely!” Sonny said. “Of course.”

The girls each gave Sonny a hug and a high five, then Cagney hugged Rafael’s knee. “Bye Mr. Raffa-yell,” she said shyly, and then they were bundled away by their grandmother.

Sonny glanced at him ruefully once they were gone. “Sorry about that,” he said. “I know this wasn’t the day you wanted.”

Rafael shrugged. “Actually, it was fun,” he said, realizing as he did that he meant it. He tried to deflect. “They’re good kids.”

“They are,” Sonny agreed, although the look in his eyes let Rafael know he wasn’t going to let him off the hook that easily. “It would have been a much more exhausting day if they’d been crying or crabby.”

“It gets more exhausting?” Rafael asked.

Sonny laughed, slinging an arm around his shoulders. “C’mon. Let’s go home. We could both use a nap, and you’ve got ice cream on your pants.”

“I knew it,” Rafael grumbled, but he leaned into Sonny anyway.

 

6.

The New York City Police League’s Annual Gala had long been a fixture on Rafael’s calendar. Some years he took a platonic date; he’d taken Liv a couple of times, the last few years. This year he was there with the entire SVU squad—Liv was up for an award, and they’d all turned out to support her. It made the question of whether or not he would have taken Sonny as his date easier to avoid, at least for now.

“You come to a lot of these things?” Sonny asked, handing him a drink.

“Every year.” Rafael surveyed the room over the rim of his glass. “It’s not the most exciting evening, but there are a lot of important people here.”

He hadn’t paid much attention to the invitation, other than to note the place and time. There were always a few precincts invited, always a few cops being honored for something. He thought perhaps he should have paid more attention to the invite when he saw a familiar face, albeit one he hadn’t seen in a long time. “Oh, Christ,” Rafael muttered.

Sonny followed his gaze. “Friend of yours?”

“Something like that,” Rafael replied, taking a long swallow of his drink. Sonny raised his eyebrows at that, but Rafael ignored him as Raymond Holt stopped in front of them. “Ray,” he said, offering his hand to shake. “It’s been too long.”

“It has,” Holt said, shaking his hand primly. “Rafael, I don’t believe you’ve met my husband Kevin?”

“I have not,” Rafael said, reaching to shake Kevin’s hand. “Rafael Barba.”

“Rafael’s with the DA’s office in Manhattan,” Holt told him.

“I was going to say, you don’t look like a cop,” Kevin said. Rafael wasn’t quite sure if that was meant as a compliment or not. “And who’s your friend?”

“Oh, yes, of course. This is Dominick Carisi. He’s a detective with Manhattan SVU,” Rafael told them, well aware of the way Ray was watching him. He was going to neither confirm nor deny anything, not to Holt.

“Call me Sonny, everyone does,” Sonny said as he shook their hands.

“Sonny, this is Captain Ray Holt and his husband Kevin. You’ll have to forgive me, Ray, but I don’t know where you’re working these days.”

“Still in Brooklyn,” Holt said. “I’m captain of the 99th Precinct there.”

Of course you are, Rafael thought as Sonny’s face lit up. “Oh yeah? I used to work the Nine-Nine, fourth floor! I must’ve left just before you started there.”

“Ah yes,” Holt said, snapping his fingers. “I thought you looked familiar. There’s a picture of your erstwhile mustache hanging in our break room.”

Sonny grinned. “Aww, you gotta be kidding me, that’s still up? That’s awesome.”

“Kevin, what is it that you do?” Rafael said, trying to get a handle on the conversation. “If you don’t mind me saying, you don’t look like a cop yourself.”

“Of course not,” Kevin replied. “I’m head of the Classics Department at Columbia.”

“Good school,” Sonny said approvingly.

“Very good,” Kevin said.

“Well, if you’ll excuse us, we should probably find our seats before dinner begins,” Rafael said. “Ray, it was good to see you again.”

“And you,” Holt said. “Nice to finally meet you, Detective Carisi.”

“Nice to meet you both,” Sonny said as Rafael nodded at Kevin, and they stepped away.

“Okay, that was weird,” Sonny said as soon as they were out of earshot.

Rafael finished his drink in one swallow, steering them towards the bar. “Weird in what way?”

Sonny eyed his empty glass. “Weird in that you and Holt were totally having an entirely different conversation than the rest of us.”

Damn. Some days, Rafael thought, he should have known better than to get involved with a detective. “We were, were we?”

Sonny stopped, forcing Rafael to stop and face him. “Look, you don’t have to tell me what that was about, okay? But don’t play dumb. I hate it when you do that.”

Rafael sighed. “Alright,” he admitted. He glanced around out of habit to make sure that no one nearby was paying them any attention. “Ray and I dated. A long time ago.”

Sonny shrugged. “Okay. And? It didn’t end well or something? Wait—” Rafael could almost see the lightbulb going off over his head. “He’s that Raymond Holt? One of the first openly gay cops in New York City, Raymond Holt?”

“Yes,” Rafael said patiently. “He’s that Raymond Holt. And that’s why we didn’t work out.”

It only took a couple of seconds before Sonny got it. “Because you weren’t out.”

“And I’m still not. Not really,” Rafael said. Some people knew, but he didn’t make a point out of advertising his sexuality. Most of the time he felt it would only be a distraction, or ammunition against him in court and in his professional life. If people weren’t going to like him, he wanted it to be because he was damn good at his job, not because he liked men.

“I told you, I’m okay with that,” Sonny said.

“For now,” Rafael said, not quite keeping the edge out of his voice. “But will you still be in a year? In three, in five? If I never put a ring on it and make an honest man out of you? If you transfer departments and you can’t tell your colleagues about me? If I never take you to the opera or the Mayor’s Ball or even the Police League’s Annual Gala—”

“Rafael,” Sonny cut him off quietly, “stop, okay? I don’t know how I’m gonna feel about it in a year. But for right now, I’m fine with it.”

“You shouldn’t be,” Rafael said, more viciously than he intended.

“Yeah, well, that’s not for you to decide. C’mon,” he said, turning. “Let’s get another drink.”

Dinner was fine. Rafael was seated next to Liv, and he let her draw him into a conversation about an apartment in her building that had flooded the week before. Amaro had flown back from California for the weekend at Liv’s invitation, and he was telling Sonny about his new job out there with some sort of private security firm. The whole thing went remarkably well, despite the fact that Rafael kept waiting for the other shoe to drop. It wasn’t until dessert that he heard Amaro say to Sonny, “So, what about you? You seeing anybody?”

“Yeah, actually, I am,” Sonny said. “Have been for a few months now.”

“Really?” Rollins asked, leaning in like there was some good gossip. “You haven’t mentioned anybody.”

Sonny gave her a nonplussed look and shrugged. “Yeah, well, you know, we’re taking it slow, want to keep things private for now. You know how it is.”

“You’re totally dating one of those law school girls, aren’t you?” Amaro asked. “One of the ‘pretty’ ones?”

“Look, I told you, you can’t hate them until after they pass the bar,” Sonny said. “And even then, some of the lawyers turn out okay, right Barba?”

It was a good answer, one that didn’t deny their suspicions, and could be read as a yes. Out of the corner of his eye, Rafael could see Liv studiously swiping every last crumb from her cake plate. She’d known from the beginning, but had kept it quiet. Rafael realized that it was probably ridiculous to try to hide it from the SVU team, given that the entirety of the 99th Precinct knew about them. “Actually,” he said, sliding an arm around the back of Sonny’s chair in a way that was clearly more than friendly, “all lawyers are sharks, whether or not they’ve passed the bar. But Sonny’s had plenty of practice defending himself.”

Sonny glanced sideways at him. “You mean with law school.”

And he appreciated the out, he really, really did, but that’s not what he wanted anymore. “That too, I suppose.”

Rollins and Amaro were glancing between the two of them; across the table, Fin sat back in his chair, looking either amused or pleased, Rafael wasn’t sure which. “So wait,” Rollins said, and there was a gleam in her eye, “you’re saying that you two are—” She gestured between the two of them with her dessert fork.

“For a while now,” Rafael confirmed.

“I knew it!” Rollins said, looking gleeful. “For the record, you two aren’t as subtle as you think. All that pigtail pulling and legal mumbo-jumbo—”

“We actually stopped most of that once we started dating,” Sonny said. “Or hadn’t you noticed?”

“Congratulations, you two,” Fin said before Rollins could reply. “And thank you for telling us.”

“Took you long enough,” Liv murmured to Rafael, but when he looked at her, her eyes were soft.

“Old habits,” he replied just as quietly.

The conversation moved on, mercifully. Sonny leaned over once it was clear that no one was paying them any attention and murmured, “I didn’t need that, you know.”

“I did,” Rafael replied. “Although I’m sorry for outing you to your colleagues. I didn’t think that through.”

Sonny shrugged. “I wasn’t too worried about that. They’re good people, and good detectives. You know Nick was fishing for it, right?”

“The thought had crossed my mind,” Rafael admitted.

“Anyway, thanks.” Sonny smiled at him, and his hand found Rafael’s knee under the table and squeezed. “I appreciate it.”

“You’re welcome,” Rafael said.

Liv leaned over a few moments later, once Sonny and Amaro were talking sports. “That was brave.”

“No,” Rafael corrected her, “that was cowardice disguised as bravery.”

“Whatever you want to call it,” she said, smiling. “What I want to know is, does this get me out of being your date for this thing next year?”

“Are you implying that I don’t know how to show a girl a good time, Lieutenant?” Rafael asked.

“Of course not. But you have to admit, this thing’s full of stuffy brass and the 1PP guys. It’s not exactly the most happening place.”

“Fine,” he sighed. “I’ll bring Carisi next year.”

“Good,” Liv said. She paused, smiling still. “I’m happy for you both.”

“Thanks, Liv. We both appreciate it,” he said, sincere for once.

There was one more thing he had to do, after the speeches were over. He found Holt in the crowd talking to Peralta and a woman with auburn hair. “Barba the Cobra!” Jake said, holding his hand up for a high five.

Rafael just looked at his hand, then looked at Jake. “No,” he said flatly. “Carisi’s over by the bar, if you’d give me a moment with your captain?”

Jake’s face lit up. “C’mon, Gina, you can see what Carisi looks like without a mustache!”

“I know what he looks like,” she complained, but followed Jake gamely. “I’m the one who convinced you amateurs to have the mustache growing contest in the first place!”

“They seem like a good team,” Rafael said, not quite sure how to start this conversation.

“They are,” Holt said. “They all speak highly of your Detective Carisi, too. It’s a shame he left.”

“For you, maybe.” Rafael mustered up all of his courage. “Carisi—Sonny—is my partner,” he said, because he still felt like boyfriend was too weird. “We’re dating.”

“Oh, I know,” Holt said. “Peralta told me he’d run into you two. Actually, it seems like most of my precinct has met you already.”

“By coincidence, believe it or not,” Rafael said. “I—We didn’t know you were their captain, either. Not until tonight.”

Holt made a quiet, neutral noise at that, looking intently at Rafael for a long moment. “What is it exactly that you’re trying to do here, Rafael? Are you looking for me to congratulate you?”

“I’m trying to apologize, actually,” Rafael replied. “I don’t regret how things turned out. I would guess that you don’t either—Kevin seems to be a good match for you. But I am sorry for the fact that our paths separated the way that they did, and I wish it hadn’t had to be that way.”

“It didn’t have to,” Holt said, and while he was as stoic as ever, there was a slight bite to his words that Rafael still recognized after all of this time.

Rafael shrugged. “Maybe not, but every time I didn’t advance, every promotion that passed me over, I would have wondered if it was because of who I was, not what I did. And I don’t play to lose, you know that.”

“I don’t know that I’ve ever agreed with what you consider winning,” Holt said, “but I do understand your concerns.” One corner of his mouth pulled up slightly. “I can’t say I ever thought that I’d make captain, much less openly display a rainbow flag on my desk in my own precinct.”

“It’s hard to fathom, sometimes, how much things have changed,” Rafael agreed. He glanced over to where Sonny and Peralta were standing next to the bar, Sonny gesturing as he told a story and Peralta nearly doubled over in laughter. He looked relaxed and happy, even in a room full of cops, even talking to someone who knew they were together—who approved of Sonny dating him. If Rafael did bring him next year, Sonny would be just as at ease as he was now, standing at Rafael’s side.

“What I have with Kevin,” Holt said slowly, and without looking Rafael knew he was watching Sonny and Peralta as well, “I wouldn’t have that if I’d had to hide it. That’s part of why I came out in the first place—even before Kevin, because I always felt like I wasn’t able to fully be a part of any relationship when I was afraid that someone would find out about it.” Rafael looked at him again, and found that Holt’s eyes were trained on him. “Don’t let yourself be so afraid of what you don’t have that you give up what you do.”

“I’ll take that under advisement,” Rafael said. His eyes strayed to Sonny again, and now Amy had joined them; Sonny caught him looking and smiled at him almost ruefully. Rafael felt one corner of his mouth pulling up in return. “Anyway. I don’t need to take up any more of your time.”

“Rafael,” Holt said, “keep in mind that you’re not alone in this. You do have allies in the department, both because of who you are and what you’ve done. I’m sure the same is true in the DA’s office.” Rafael nodded. Holt gave him a slight smile, nodding behind him. “I’ll see you around, Rafael.”

Sonny was heading his way when Rafael turned around. “Hey,” he said, “the Nine-Nine guys are all going out for drinks after, and they invited us to go with. What do you think? If you’re not up to it, I can just go for one round, or catch up with them—”

“No,” Rafael said, interrupting him. Sonny paused, looking hesitant. “I’d like to go too, if that’s alright with you?’

Sonny’s grin said everything—but this was Sonny, so he didn’t let that stop him. “No, that’s great! I’ll let Jake know.” He turned to go, then stopped, looking back at Rafael. “Hey. Thanks.”

“I should probably get to know these people, if they’re going to keep showing up,” Rafael said dryly. He wasn’t fooling anyone, though, least of all himself.