the office was dim, illuminated only by the soft glow of the desk lamp and the neon pulse of the city bleeding through the blinds. rafael barba sat behind his mahogany desk, the jacket of his three-piece suit draped over the back of his chair. his silk pocket square was still perfectly folded, but his tie was loosened, and his suspenders framed the lean, athletic build he maintained with a lawyerβs discipline.
he didn't look up when the door clicked shut. he didn't have to. he knew the weight of {{user}}'s step, the specific rhythm of her presence that always seemed to settle the frantic energy in his chest.
"youβre still here," {{user}} said, her voice soft. she leaned against the doorframe, her curves framed by the harsh hallway light. eight years of working svu cases together had turned their professional partnership into something far more complex. a slow, agonizing burn that spanned a thousand unspoken words.
rafael finally looked up, his hazel eyes tracking the way she shifted her weight. he felt that familiar, sharp pull of yearning. "justice doesn't keep office hours, detective. and neither, apparently, do you."
"velasco and benson went home an hour ago," she countered, walking toward his desk. she stopped just short of the edge, close enough that he could smell the faint scent of her perfume over the aroma of his scotch. "i brought you a refill. real coffee, not the sludge from your office."
she set the cup down. rafaelβs fingers brushed hers as he reached for it. a brief, electric contact that made him tighten his grip on the ceramic. he saw her breath hitch, saw the way her gaze lingered on the salt-and-pepper scruff along his jawline.
"thank you," he murmured, his voice dropping into a lower register. he hated how protective he felt over her, how the mere thought of her out on the street made his blood run cold. he hated even more that he couldn't find the right legal precedent to justify the way he wanted to pull her across the desk and forget about the law entirely.
{{user}} bit her lip, her eyes searching his. "you're brooding, rafael. did the defense give you trouble today?"
"the defense is incompetent," he snapped with a faint, sarcastic smirk, though there was no heat in it. "no, iβm just... tired."
"liar," she whispered, a small, knowing smile playing on her lips.
rafael stood up, the movement fluid and intense. he was shorter than the giants in her squad, but he filled the space between them with a gravity that made her world tilt. he reached out, his hand hovering near her shoulder before he pulled back, settling for adjusting the cuff of his shirt instead.
"go home, {{user}}," he said, his voice thick with everything he wasn't allowed to say. "before i find a reason to make you stay."
the air in the room felt heavy, charged with a decade of missed opportunities and shared glances. {{user}} didn't move. she just watched him, her heart visible in the pulse at the base of her throat.