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yougotthat-write · 2 years

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That Guy (Rafael Barba x Reader)

Word Count: 2,318

Warnings: This thing be fluffy af :), gender-neutral I believe

Summary: Rafael needs his daily dose of coffee.

Author's Note: Shout out to my first post in like.... seven months?? I'm lowkey posting this to clear up my files since I started so many things but just keep going in and out of my Rafael Barba/SVU fixation.

Read on AO3 here!

Rafael crossed the street quickly, dodging the impatient cars who were ready to take out anyone in their paths. The grip on his briefcase tightened and his other hand went to his chest, holding his coat to him. Autumn was bitterly turning into winter and Rafael rolled his eyes when he heard the weather report for the following week. The first snowfall – while light and would most likely melt away by the next day – would be wreaking havoc on the East Coast.

When he reached the other side of the street, heading towards his office, he checked his wrist for the time. He was running a few minutes late but that didn’t mean that he wouldn’t miss out on getting his much needed coffee on the way to the office. Rafael was a regular at a coffee cart run by an older man named Jackson. He always wore a dark blue baseball cap that was embroidered boldly with ‘NYC’. He remembered Rafael’s coffee order after his third day of transferring from the Brooklyn D.A. to Manhattan.

He weaved past bodies who were all dressed in a similar fashion. Since it was getting colder, jackets and coats got longer and thicker. Gloves and scarves were dug out from the back of closets.

After quickly ascending a small flight of perfectly chiseled steps, Rafael began to smell the strong scent of coffee. Dark roasts, blonde roasts, espressos. Each and every glorious bean wafted towards Rafael and even the smell of them was already beginning to jolt his body into overdrive for the long day of court.

Wallet already pulled out, he slapped the two dollars onto the cart next to an already made cup. Rafael smiled, “Thanks, Jack.” He grabbed the cup without looking up at the old man and quickly turned. His brain was beginning to rattle with tasks for his assistant to do when he got to his office, but when he lifted the warm cup to his lips and took a big sip, Rafael couldn't help but spit out the liquid that invaded his mouth. He didn’t bother giving out an apology to the people who came very close to having a spit shower, muttering angrily at Rafael.

Whilst standing a good ten feet away, Rafael Barba turned quickly back towards the cart’s direction with a disgusted look.

His fiery, yet also confused eyes, landed on you.

You were staring at him with a curious look. Your head was tilted to the side slightly and when you locked eyes with him, your brows shot up, silently questioning him about his actions. Rafael started his way back to the cart, lifting the cup in his hand to his nose and giving a sniff.

It definitely wasn’t coffee in the cup.

And you definitely weren’t Jackson.

He stood in front of the cart and set the cup back onto the top of it, right next to the money he slapped down. His tongue swiped over his lips as he tried to fight the small wave of embarrassment flushing over him.

He looked over at you when you spoke, “Now I have to make myself another chai.” You didn’t sound mad or annoyed. You were just stating a fact.

“M’sorry,” he muttered. “Jackson usually has it ready and–” You waved a hand dismissively and put a stop to his rambling to start your own.

“Are you the judge who gets a coffee that’s half milk?” You ask. “Or the bailiff that gets a double shot with five sugars?” He watched as you bit down on your bottom lip, looking over his attire. He was wearing a suit and you could see it peeking from his long coat that wasn’t buttoned all the way to the top. His hair was styled perfectly and you were sure if he were to do a backflip right then and there, not a lock would move out of place. “Lawyer?” You question.

“Prosecutor,” he corrects. You roll your eyes. The hair on the back of his neck stands up and he finds himself needing to rid the taste of chai out of his mouth. “Dark roast, black, extra shot.” You let out a noise that he can only assume as recognition.

“You’re that guy,” you say and grab a new cup with one hand and a marker with the other. He watches you scribble something across it before making his drink and setting it on the counter. You finally took the money he set down and put it in the small, janky register.

Rafael paused for a moment, giving you one last glance over and debating on apologizing for his behavior again but decided against it. He grabbed the cup and you flashed him a smile before directing your attention to the person who stepped up to the cart after Rafael. And it happened to be Judge Barth, who flashed Rafael a small smile before ordering her drink.

Rafael gripped the warm cup and made his way towards the building that held his office. Before he stepped through the doors of Hogan Place, he lifted the cup up to his lips to take a sip but was distracted by two words that were scrawled onto his cup: THAT GUY.

***

It was colder today. Frost had taken over the city during the night and was slowly melting away as the sun tried to break through the clouds. Rafael had decided to add a scarf that his mother bought him last Christmas to his attire for the day.

He made his way down the street and up towards the coffee cart. Rafael was still surprised to see you perched behind the cart. You had a phone in your hand, thumb scrolling through the mess of news on your screen. You had a blue baseball cap on backwards and Rafael was sure it was the one Jackson always wore.

He cleared his throat to grab your attention. You looked from your phone and over to the prosecutor. He held two dollars in between his fingers and opened his mouth to speak but when he saw your eyes slink over from him and to the cart counter, he followed your gaze and saw a cup sitting off to the side slightly.

He was going to ask if it was his but then he saw the same words you had written on his cup yesterday. He couldn’t stop the rolling of his eyes. He didn’t see your mouth contorting into a smirk as he placed the money on the cart and grabbed the cup.

Hesitant, Rafael brought the cup up to his nose and took in a breath. It smelt like coffee. It smelt like his coffee. He took a sip and the roast rushed through him warmly. When he looked at you finally, you were already looking at him. “You're welcome, guy.” Rafael only nodded before stepping away.

***

When stepping up to the coffee cart the day after, Rafael looked at you for a long moment. You decided to be more obvious with his already made coffee and slid it over to him dramatically. You switched out the baseball cap for a thick wool beanie and your hands were dressed in black, fingerless gloves.

“So, where is he?” He asked. You rubbed your hands together before shooting him a questioning look.

“Do I not make your coffee as well as Jack?”

He took a sip. “I can’t be curious about my friend?”

“Appendicitis,” You say, “he’ll be back next week and so you won’t have to deal with a pleb making your coffee anymore.” While you spoke in a sort of deadpan manner, Rafael could see the playful glint in your eyes that told him that you weren’t serious.

“Ah, so this isn’t a full-time gig?”

A small smile graces your lips, “I’m busy with a job in an actual coffee shop that has heat and classes at I.C.E.,” You grab a cup that was hidden by the cash register and take a sip, hoping the chai would warm you against the chill of New York.

Rafael’s interest perked. “Chef or baker?”

A wider smile appeared on your face and you proudly stated, “Baker.”

“Do you want to open your own bakery?”

You give a shrug. “It’s a possibility.” Rafael watched as someone stepped up and asked for a coffee with extra cream in it. He stood to the side, watching your hands move from task to task. Your fingers plucked the two dollars from the unnamed person’s hands and you flashed a smile and a thank you.

A warmness invaded his chest. He took a large sip of his coffee, using that as an excuse to himself as to why that feeling was coming to him. All he was seeing was a person do a simple task. But there was an air about you that made him want to stand out for hours in the bitter air. He knew he couldn’t. He was sure Olivia and her team were frothing at the mouth to ask him to get warrants signed off by judges. His phone vibrated three times within the last ten minutes and he was sure it was his assistant Carmen needing to tell him important things.

When the other person left, you looked over at him again. “Same time tomorrow, guy?” Rafael gave a curt nod, taking a few steps back in the direction of his office before turning smoothly and quickly speeding off.

***

The snow had finally come.

The thin blanket affected people negatively or positively and there was simply no in-between. Cars seem to honk more insentently at Rafael as he crossed streets with other nameless people. Children laughed and threw handfuls of snow back up into the air as their parents tried to usher them through the icy streets.

The hustle and bustle of Hogan Place didn’t seem to slow down with the weather but Rafael did find himself walking more slowly up those stone steps that hid patches of ice. He could feel the cold air nipping at his ears and while he would’ve loved to throw a hat over his head, he didn’t want to mess up his hair today.

He caught himself fiddling with it in the mirror more this morning. He wasn’t sure why. He didn’t do anything different to it. He just felt this lingering and looming feeling that he should look nicer today.

When he finally made it over to the cart, he couldn’t make you out at first. His eyes quickly glanced over the dark bundle of coat. When he realized it was you, he saw the small shuffle of your feet you were doing and how your gloves had grown thicker and covered all of your fingers this time. You wore a hat that was fluffy, plaid, and had long flaps that covered your ears.

Oh, how Rafael wished he had something to cover his own ears.

Stepping up to the cart, you peeked your head out of the bundle of your coat and flashed a chittering smile towards Rafael. He gave back a lopsided smile, before uttering a quiet greeting in Spanish. You untuck one of your hands from your body and start to make his cup of coffee. You figured making it fresh would be better for today since the cold air would do its damndest to turn it to the dark side.

Pushing it towards him, you say, “Your ears are getting red, guy.”

Despite standing in the cold, Rafael could feel a warmth rush through his body. As if the warmth inside of him heard what you said, they made their way over to the tips of his ears. He wasn’t sure if they were getting more red or anything, but he hoped you wouldn’t notice.

To distract you, he said, “My name is Rafael.” He followed your gaze as it flickered from his chilly ears and locked with his own gaze. There was a silence between the two of you. You didn’t speak until you slid the freshly poured coffee towards him.

“Rafael Barber?”

Rafael blinked once, twice.

“Rafael Barba,” he corrected. His Spanish accent came through and you made a small “oh” noise.

“Sorry about that,” you said, “but you were the one who handled the Optimum Air case? The female pilot was raped by her co-pilot?” Rafael reached for the cup on the cart counter. His fingers were cold and the warmth of the coffee did its best to fight against it. He nodded once. “I read about it in the paper.” You continue, “You exposed the whole company for being a dangerous place for women to work.” You shuffled in place, keeping your body moving to keep it warm. “It was really nice to read about.”

While the compliment was simple and he had gotten a lot of praise about his work on the case from judges, fellow lawyers, and even Olivia, that simple sentence made his grip tighten on his coffee cup. “Thanks,” he muttered out, “but uh, all the bravery comes from the victims.”

When you shot him a small but warm smile, he almost dropped his coffee. His grip loosened and he cleared his throat as he juggled it to his other hand. Trying to keep the cup stable while also hanging onto his briefcase in one hand, he dug for his money with the now free one.

You held up a gloved hand and shook your hand, “It’s on the house, Rafael.”

Another moment passed, “Gracias,” he said quietly while shifting his coffee cup to his free hand and straightening himself. “What is… your name?” He saw your lips turn upwards into a smile and you huffed out a small cloud of a chuckle.

“I already gave you free coffee,” you said, “only one perk per day, guy.”

“I see,” Rafael’s smile was small, “I can wait one more day.”

#this has over 100 notes!!#can i get a YEE #and a HAW

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yougotthat-write · 2 years

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(x)

#baby #raúl esparza

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yougotthat-write · 2 years

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That Guy (Rafael Barba x Reader)

Word Count: 2,318

Warnings: This thing be fluffy af :), gender-neutral I believe

Summary: Rafael needs his daily dose of coffee.

Read on AO3 here!

He weaved past bodies who were all dressed in a similar fashion. Since it was getting colder, jackets and coats got longer and thicker. Gloves and scarves were dug out from the back of closets.

Whilst standing a good ten feet away, Rafael Barba turned quickly back towards the cart’s direction with a disgusted look.

His fiery, yet also confused eyes, landed on you.

It definitely wasn’t coffee in the cup.

And you definitely weren’t Jackson.

He looked over at you when you spoke, “Now I have to make myself another chai.” You didn’t sound mad or annoyed. You were just stating a fact.

“M’sorry,” he muttered. “Jackson usually has it ready and–” You waved a hand dismissively and put a stop to his rambling to start your own.

***

“So, where is he?” He asked. You rubbed your hands together before shooting him a questioning look.

“Do I not make your coffee as well as Jack?”

He took a sip. “I can’t be curious about my friend?”

“Ah, so this isn’t a full-time gig?”

Rafael’s interest perked. “Chef or baker?”

A wider smile appeared on your face and you proudly stated, “Baker.”

“Do you want to open your own bakery?”

***

The snow had finally come.

Oh, how Rafael wished he had something to cover his own ears.

Pushing it towards him, you say, “Your ears are getting red, guy.”

“Rafael Barber?”

Rafael blinked once, twice.

“Rafael Barba,” he corrected. His Spanish accent came through and you made a small “oh” noise.

You held up a gloved hand and shook your hand, “It’s on the house, Rafael.”

“I already gave you free coffee,” you said, “only one perk per day, guy.”

“I see,” Rafael’s smile was small, “I can wait one more day.”

#rafael barba #rafael barba x reader #rafael barba x you #raúl esparza #rafael barba fic #rafael barba fluff #rafael barba imagine #law and order svu #svu fanfiction #svu fic #raul esparza #*dj khaled voice* anotha (story i started months ago and now just getting around to posting) one!!#hello to all the new followers i've gotten these past months #here is a treat.... so smol..... hopefully yummy!!!

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yougotthat-write · 2 years

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yougotthat-write · 2 years

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Tinder (Rafael Barba x Reader)

Word Count: 2,400

Warnings: Female reader, fluff, Rollisi shenanigans, cringey and inappropriate pick-up lines, potential PTSD for former/current users of dating apps and all the awkwardness that ensues from it :)

Summary: Amanda and Sonny try to find the perfect match for their uptight (and while he would never admit it - lonely) A.D.A.

Read on AO3 here!

It had started off as a joke, really.

Rafael Barba would never sign up onto a dating app if it wasn’t against his will. When he heard the snickering of Amanda and Sonny when he stopped by the 16th precinct, his feet couldn’t help themselves but bring him over to the two detectives.

Amanda bit her cheek to settle herself as the ADA’s polished shoes made their way over. Sonny’s ears turned pink at the tips, which gave Rafael the tell-tale sign that Sonny and Amanda were up to no good.

Hands in his pockets, Rafael quipped, “What?”

Amanda and Sonny exchanged glances. The silence between the two was not a normal thing but when Rafael asked a second time - more aggressive - Sonny held out a cell phone to the lawyer. Rafael’s brows went up in question but when Sonny motioned him to take it, Rafael grabbed it. Looking down at the device, the screen lit up and a plethora of information singed itself into his brain.

Rafael Barba, 37

Manhattan, NY

Assistant District Attorney

Oh baby, I’ll give you so much due process, standing will be the only issue.

Rafael’s eyes widened at the dumb pick-up line. His thumb swiped through the photos. One was of an appearance on the news - dressed up in a suit on the steps of the courthouse with a furrowed brow and serious look on his face. One was him at Forlini’s - scowling over the rim of his bourbon while sitting at the bar next to a grinning Sonny. He remembered when Amanda took this picture. It was the day he told Sonny he could be his second chair. Another picture showed him actually smiling - dressed in a Tom Ford tuxedo, champagne flute in one hand while the other was resting on the waist of his date for that night. She was an oil company lobbyist that he hooked up with sometimes when she wasn’t in D.C.

“What is this?” Rafael’s eyes hardened as he looked up at the two detectives. Sonny flinched at Rafael’s tone. Amanda simply blinked at Rafael. She wasn’t one to deal with attitude willingly but given how uptight Rafael could be sometimes, she was letting it slide. Rafael’s eyes went back down to the dating profile and he felt an annoyance bubble within him. “What the hell is this?”

“Calm down,” Amanda said as she grabbed the phone back with a roll of her eyes. “It’s just a dating profile.”

“Of me!” Rafael looked at Amanda like she was speaking some foreign, alien language. “Why does it exist?”

Sonny’s face seemed to become more pink. A hand went to the back of his neck, rubbing it as his mentor for all intents and purposes became more annoyed. “We just thought it would be fun-”

“You thought it would be fun impersonating a Manhattan A.D.A.!” Rafael’s voice was raised. A few passing officers gave some glances to the group. Amanda waved a dismissive hand to one of them, letting them know that Rafael wasn’t someone to worry about when angry. “You’re lucky I don’t have you arrested.”

Amanda snorted, “We were going to tell you about it when we got you a date.”

“Yeah,” Sonny added, “we just thought you were stressed lately and needed someone to... ya know.”

If looks could kill, Rafael Barba would have murdered two very well-liked and very hard working detectives right then and there in a New York police precinct. He would have to tell Olivia that she would be short staffed for god knows how long.

Rafael’s fingers came up to pinch the bridge of his nose, taking a hard breath before looking back at the detectives. “You think I need your help getting laid?”

Sonny’s mouth gaped like a goldfish, trying to find words but nothing seemed to make itself at home in his pretty little head. He looked over at Amanda with wide eyes, hoping for her to smooth over the situation. Amanda simply shrugged her shoulders, “It’s not that we think you can’t get laid, Counselor,” she paused, eyes almost sympathetic and it made Rafael’s nostrils flare, “you just haven’t had… anyone around… long-term, you know?”

“I’m struggling to find where this is any of your concern,” Rafael pointed a finger at the two of them, “or why you would think I would find it on a dating app.” Rafael’s mind was flooding with things to make the lives of these two detectives a living hell. Maybe if he pulled some strings with Olivia, she’d put them on desk duty for a few weeks. “I want it deleted - get rid of it!”

Amanda held the device out of the prosecutor’s reach, giving him a few nods of understanding but she needed to tell him of one important thing, “But before we do that, you should know that there’s someone who matched with you-” Sonny nodded enthusiastically, “and she messaged you - us? - back.”

“It’s why we were laughing,” Sonny’s smile faltered when met with the fiery gaze of Rafael. He cleared his throat before continuing, “we found the dumb pick-up line on the internet and she shot back with one of her own.”

Rafael’s fire was lessened with the mention of a match. And she happened to message him? Amanda stepped closer to Rafael, finger mindlessly swiping from one screen and to another. There Rafael had seen the actual large amount of messages he was getting. “Seems like more than one match.” He muttered under his breath. And while this whole ordeal wasn’t something he necessarily wanted, the temporary boost of his ego made his shoulders straighten and his tongue dart over his lower lip.

“You’re very popular, Counselor,” Amanda’s brows wagged.

“But we like her the most,” Sonny said, “she seems fun!”

Rafael’s eyes rolled, before they settled on Amanda’s phone.

Are you the Court of Appeals because I’m tryna get overturned.

After he read the message, he couldn’t help the snicker. Back in his Harvard days, Rafael had heard just about every dumb pick-up line you could think of that was in the realm of lawyers. He may have even used a few of them but could you blame the guy. Rafael watched Amanda switch over to your profile.

Rafael swallowed. And then he grabbed the phone out of Amanda's hands. She let out a protest but Rafael had taken a few steps away and studied your profile like it was a law book and he had a final the next day.

It stated your name and your age. Then the same location as Rafael - Manhattan, NY. Your job was stated simply as a lawyer. Huh. That certainly piqued Rafael’s interest. In your bio, you had:

What better alibi could you have than spending the night with me?

He swiped through your photos. One was of you at the Central Park Zoo, scowling at a monkey who was seemingly doing the same thing back at you. Another was of you at a bar or a club - one arm thrown over the shoulder of another woman and a fruity drink held in your free hand. Your attention was focused on your drink rather than your friend or the person taking the picture. The last photo was of you at a brunch of some kind. You held up a mimosa with a wide smile and a large sun hat atop your head.

“Did you say anything back?” Rafael asked. Amanda shook her head with a smirk. You were certainly attractive and if you had taken the time to message Rafael on the cursed app then you must have thought that he was attractive too. He went back to the message you sent and swallowed again. “W-what should I say?”

Amanda’s smirk didn’t falter as she stepped over to Rafael, plucking the phone out of his frozen hands. Rafael heard the speedy tapping of the blonde woman’s fingers, tapping out a message quickly. Sonny stepped over, peeking down over Amanda’s shoulder. Rafael watched Sonny’s face as it went from curiosity to what Amanda was writing and to a lopsided smile, essentially giving his approval of the message.

Rafael didn’t like the idea of Sonny approving anything of his - especially if it came to how he got a date but he patiently waited until a swoosh noise came from the phone. Rafael stepped over to see what she had written but Amanda’s fingers were quick with logging out of the app and swiftly deleting it off her phone.

“Hey-” Rafael couldn’t stop the protest from his lips, brows furrowed. Amanda ignored him, grabbing a sticky note and a pen. She scrawled the login information for the account and slapped it onto his chest.

“I don’t want it on my phone if that conversation starts to get dirty,” Amanda said. Sonny chuckled.

“I think it started out pretty fiery.”

Rafael held the sticky note in his fingers. He could feel his phone in his suit pocket. It felt hot and electric against him, even through all the layers of clothes he wore. “Nevertheless, I’m deleting the account,” he looked over the two detectives with a hard gaze, “and you are to never to do this again. Or else I will be put in jail for voluntary manslaughter.” Amanda swiftly ignored Rafael’s threat whereas Sonny seemed to take it more seriously. The lanky man gave a nod before settling himself at his desk.

Rafael stepped away from the detectives’ desks and dug his phone out from his pocket. His fingers twitched and he felt this wave of embarrassment wash over him as he searched the app’s name and watched it download onto his phone. It seemed to take hours for the dumb thing to fully be situated onto his device. He tapped it, used the sticky note information to log in and was greeted with new profiles to swipe across. He ignored them and went to his messages to see what the pesky blonde detective had said. He hoped it wasn’t something too inappropriate. The last thing Rafael needed was headlines of him sexually harassing women over social media.

He hesitated for a second before tapping on the messages with you. He took a deep breath. He felt nervous. Was it because of the potential can of worms that Amanda could have unleashed? Was it because he found you attractive? Was it because the two detectives were right and it had been a while since he’s had anyone around? While Rafael was capable of finding a temporary suitor to share his bed, he couldn’t find anyone to become something more permanent.

His eyes searched the screen, brain trying to quickly decipher the jumble of letters on his screen. “Ay Dios mío,” Rafael muttered under his breath and the grip on his phone tightened. Rafael thought he read the message a dozen times, just over and over again, trying to really see if Amanda truly did send this to you. He tapped various spaces on his phone, trying to see if there was an undo button but to no avail, the message taunted him.

Something something dictum. Sleep with me.

Rafael was caught off guard by Olivia who called his name from her office door. Rafael cleared his throat, slid his phone back into his pocket with one hand and slid the other down his chest, smoothing out any wrinkles in his shirt. Rafael finally remembered why he was there at the precinct. He needed to do his job and watch a line-up be conducted. Olivia had sounded very confident over the phone, so he figured he had a simple day.

He had spent the rest of his day watching various victims come forward to pick out their attacker confidently. When the defense lawyer monotonously asked to speak with his client after the lineups were done, Rafael felt his phone buzz. For a brief moment, Rafael had forgotten the dating app debacle. He wondered if it was Carmen, telling him of more paperwork and messages that needed to be signed and answered.

But no, it wasn’t Carmen.

It was a notification from the stupid app.

You have a new message!

Rafael bit down on his bottom lip, finger hovering over the notification. He took a breath and tapped his phone. God, what is wrong with me? Grow some cojones, Barba. Rafael watched the screen load and then plaster your message into his line of vision.

Ah, this definitely is a catfish account because there’s no way an ADA would use a line like that.

Rafael smirked. Took a moment to think and then started to type.

The DA has very low standards these days.

You messaged back quickly.

If they’re hiring based on looks, then I’d say they have very high standards, Counselor.

Rafael’s hand lifted to scratch at his jaw, a smile breaking across his face. His eyes widened at another message from you.

Does the prosecution want to rest at my place later tonight?

The forwardness from you made Rafael’s smile turn into a smirk. If Olivia or Sonny had seen him, they would even consider to call it a cocky smirk.

Would you want to meet for drinks first or just take this back to chambers?

I suppose I could side-bar for some drinks.

Great!

He paused before sending another message.

Let’s just agree to not use any more lawyer puns.

Objection!

After setting up a time to meet up at a swanky bar later that night, Rafael entered the bullpen again but with an air of confidence about him. Amanda noticed the shift in energy within the counselor. The corner of her mouth ticked up, fingers fiddling with a pen as she leaned back in her chair, side-eyeing Rafael. “Line-up went well?”

Rafael picked a piece of nonexistent lint off his suit jacket. “It went great, Rollins.” She hummed quietly, eyes studying every inch of his face with amusement.

“We’re heading to Forlini’s tonight,” Amanda stated, “would you like to come?” At the mention of Forlini’s, Sonny peeked over at the two of them from his laptop.

Rafael gave one curt shake of his head. “I’m afraid I’m busy tonight.” And with that, Rafael had turned and exited the bullpen and towards the elevator. Even though he hated it in theory of what Amanda and Sonny did, Rafael couldn’t deny that he didn’t not like the outcome of it.

#this reached 100 notes!!!#💜💜💜#probably one of my faves tbh #thank u everyone!!!

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yougotthat-write · 2 years

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Which (b)iconic Raúl Esparza character are you?

(i can’t explain my actions, just that i do them)

#i am pasta boi (((alfredo)))#thnk u for this #raúl esparza

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yougotthat-write · 2 years

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Should've Made a Pastry Masterlist

Summary: You discover one of Rafael’s fantasies and see if you can grant a little wish fulfillment

Warnings: Included for each part individually

Rating: E

Pairing: Rafael Barba x f!Reader, Rafael Barba x Sonny Carisi, Sonny Carisi x f!Reader

Prologue

Part Two

Part Three

#hot as FUCK #written so GOOD #fic rec

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yougotthat-write · 2 years

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From now on

You are not allow to complain about lack of content if you don't reblog content.

You're part of the problem. I don't care if it doesn't fit your aesthetic or you think that a like is "just as good". Reblogs are way more important than likes.

A like is like a quick almost mindless thing you do as a "neat" before you keep scrolling. At least that's what it feels like they are.

A reblog is telling that creator: Hey, I really like your stuff and want you to make more. I'll help by spreading your content around so more people can see it.

We all appreciate likes but they don't do any good if no one is sharing the content.

Every time I see such a difference in likes and reblogs it discourages me from writing more and I'm sure others feel the same.

#writers on tumblr #artists on tumblr #important

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yougotthat-write · 2 years

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with the tags and search officially being completely broken on all platforms (no new posts are showing up in them anymore), now feels like a good time to remind everyone that the only way to help creators is to reblog their stuff. even before the tags were busted most people found new creators through their content being rebloged onto their dash, and now, at least for the time being, that will be the Only way to find and spread things.

Fast reblog is a thing, you dont have to leave comments, you dont have to leave tags, just reblog stuff if you want to keep seeing new content being posted to this site.

and as a final note, with this change likes are officially completely pointless for content creators. up till now they served to boost a posts placement in the tag searches (a post tagged #girl with 40 likes would show up higher in the search than a post tagged #girl with only 10 likes,)

#<3

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yougotthat-write · 2 years

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Raúl Esparza as Rafael Barba in SVU 23.09 “People vs. Richard Wheatley”

#god... i will not watch svu now bc of the constant oc crossovers #and it sucks bc this MAN is here <3 #my bby boi #raúl esparza

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yougotthat-write · 2 years

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United Front: Part One (Law & Order: SVU/NCIS Crossover, Rafael Barba x Reader)

Part One: A Case

Word Count: 7,200+

Warnings: Graphic description of assault, canon-typical violence, language, crossover between SVU and NCIS, can't think of any other warnings - please let me know of any.

Summary: With the rape and death of a high-level Naval intelligence officer in Manhattan, America’s two toughest crime solving teams must learn to work together. The 16th precinct is wary of the federal agents, but opinions need to be set aside for the greater good of the victim and the country. You might find yourself getting a little too comfortable with a certain prosecutor, but your training prepared you for that… right?

Author's Note: This has been in my Google Docs for months and I've been kind of meh about it. I guess I'm posting to see if people would like this. I'm someone who thrives on affirmation so, let me know what you think! Realistically, this would be a slow burn fic with the reader ending up with Rafael b/c... I love him.

Read on AO3 here!

***

Intensive Care Unit | Bellevue Hospital

Manhattan, New York

Monday November 13th

9:48 A.M.

The hospital had that off putting smell. That smell that would tell you it was constantly cleaned but it still would make people feel dirty or diseased if they sat in it for too long. Sergeant Odafin Tutuola and Detective Amanda Rollins made their way down the pristine white hallway and to the nurses station. Fin stepped to the nurse behind the desk, “You called about a woman? Mid-twenties? Possible rape?”

The Spanish looking woman looked up from the computer. She nodded over towards a man in scrubs, down the adjacent hallway, “Dr. Williams,” was all she said before she went back to typing up her notes from a patient who had just come down from a seizure.

Rollins led the way towards the doctor. Forefingers slipping into the back pockets of her jeans, she called for the doctor. The doctor stopped his conversation with another nurse, quickly giving her the important information before he stepped towards the blonde woman. “Yes,” He gave a closed lipped smile. “You’re Special Victims?”

“Rollins,” Fin nodded over at the blonde. “Tutuola.” He gestured to himself. The doctor introduced himself before leading them down a hallway and launched into why he called this specific department of the NYPD. A black woman had been found unconscious on the sidewalk just outside of Bellevue hospital. An incoming ambulance saw her on the ground. She looked like she was just thrown out like garbage. She was bleeding from her head. The large pool of blood made the paramedics believe she wasn’t alive until they found a weak pulse.

When they got her loaded onto a gurney and into the light of the hospital, did they finally notice how bad she looked. Her dress was torn and she had circular burns on her arms and legs. Blood soaked the bottom of her dress. Twin bruises were circling her eyes. The doctor stated how this was one of the worst things he’s ever seen. He was called in when they found the bleed in her brain after her CAT scan.

Dr. Williams was able to stop the bleeding but she would be kept in a coma for the time being and monitored closely. He ordered a nurse to do a full screening of the woman which included a rape kit. When the doctor was told of the brutality of her injuries, he knew he had to call S.V.U.

Stopping outside of a door, the doctor turned to the two agents. “There wasn’t any ID on her. She’s a Jane Doe for now. We’ll try to coax her out of the coma in the next few days. She frankly deserves the rest. Rape kit was sent out early this morning.” When his pager went off, the doctor told the two cops that he would keep them updated and they would be sure to know when she was conscious before he left them.

Amanda and Fin exchanged worried looks before pushing the door open to the room. The constant sound of beeping from machines filled their ears. In the bed, tucked under hospital covers was a woman. Skin a dark brown, tightly knotted braids framed around her face. She looked small in the bed, surrounded by machines but she was a decent five foot and seven inches. Her arms were toned and with the soft movement of her chest breathing, she seemed to be in decent shape physically. Like she regularly worked out.

Amanda stepped towards the sleeping woman. She made a sympathetic face as she looked at the burn marks. At least a dozen littered both of her arms. Even with her skin so deep in color, you could still make out the burns easily. Fin lifted the blanket at the foot of the bed. He and Rollins looked at the identical marks that covered the leg that was exposed to the cold hospital air.

“Liv is gonna need to hear about this.” Fin said, fixing the blanket. Amanda nodded as she pulled out her phone, taking pictures to send to her boss. “I’ll go get a copy of her records.”

Special Victims Unit | 16th Precinct

Manhattan, New York

Wednesday, November 15th

8:51 P.M.

Olivia Benson was silenced by the Chief. William Dodds' voice was stern, “Listen, I don’t like the idea of feds coming here as much as you but… it could be a matter of national security.”

“It’s a rape case. Our rape case.”

“But the rape happened for a reason, Benson.” Dodds said. “Rochelle Eshwatay was a high level navy intelligence officer and since she died from injuries, it’s now a murder case. It’s their job to look into this.” Benson didn’t say anything. “I expect NYPD’s S.V.U. team to be nothing but warm and welcoming. Barba will be there as well.” The click of the phone made Olivia make a face before setting it back onto the receiver.

Olivia didn’t mind helping out fellow cops but she was a highly sympathetic and empathetic person. Despite only speaking to Rochelle once when she awoke from her coma, Olivia wanted to do everything and anything in her power to find the person or persons who tortured, raped, and left Rochelle to die. Olivia felt even more anger boil when she found out Rochelle was in the Navy. Third generation . A person who put their life on the line only to be taken from this world by some cruel monster.

Olivia begrudgingly got up from her desk and out into the bullpen. Fin had his feet up on his desk, phone held to his ear as he tried to reschedule dinner with his son and his recently announced fiance. Amanda was in the small kitchen, cooing at Nick Amaro’s phone. He had just gotten back from D.C. He spent a week down there visiting his daughter and ex-wife. They had done a bunch of activities like going to the zoo and some museums.

Sonny Carisi was scowling at a laptop screen. While everyone else was taking a short break from the current case with Rochelle Eshwatay, Sonny was still trying to find some sort of connection. He was trying to see if any other cases - rape or murder or both - were done the same way as Rochelle. But whenever he came across something potential, he was locked out.

He didn’t have jurisdiction or the clearance for it.

When Amanda and Nick made their way back to the desks with fresh cups of coffee in their hands, Olivia cleared her throat. Fin looked over his shoulder at his captain, quickly setting his feet on the ground and muttering a "call you back later!” to his son. Carisi’s eyes flickered up over his computer screen which he then tilted down to get a better view of his captain.

Amanda and Nick settled into their chairs, looking at Olivia expectantly. Olivia shoved her hands into her blazer jacket. “I just got off the phone with Dodds-” Rollins rolled her eyes and Amaro made a noise of complaint. Sonny and Fin stayed quiet. “-the case is being handed over to the feds.”

“F.B.I.?” Fin asked.

Before Olivia could answer, Carisi shook his head. “Nah. N.C.I.S. would get it.” Olivia nodded.

“N.C.I.S.?” That was Amaro.

“Navy cops. Well, feds.” Carisi shrugged. Amanda looked over at the blond man. “ What? We’re cops. We should know how many different departments there are - local and federal.” His accent became more prominent as he went on, a pink tint on his cheeks.

Fin bit back his chuckle. Olivia spoke, “They’ll be here tomorrow. Dodds expects us to be good hosts and give them everything we know.” Olivia took a step closer to her squad. “I expect us to have copies.” Amanda nodded knowingly before opening her own laptop, powering up the small machine to get duplicates of all her files and everyone else’s onto a flash drive since feds were known to take original hard drives.

N.C.I.S. Headquarters

Washington, D.C.

Thursday, November 16th

7:45 A.M.

Exiting the elevator and making his way over to the bullpen, Tony DiNozzo glanced over the short cubicle wall to Ziva David. She had her phone up to her ear and she was stewing with anger. “No, no!” Her eyes slid over towards Tony, who slowed in his steps, ear pointed in the woman’s direction as her voice lowered to a whisper.

Tony’s own eyes slid from Ziva and over to Tim McGee, who sat on his desk, fingers tapping against his keyboard. Feeling the stare of Tony, Tim looked up at the older agent over his computer screen. Ziva’s hushed tone was rushed, turning away from both men. Her hand cupped around her mouth and the phone. “I booked the room weeks ago. I do not care if you have double booked it - I had it first!”

Tony made his way over to his own desk, dropping his backpack onto the carpet and settling into his chair. His elbows rested on the top of his desk, intertwining his fingers together and resting his chin atop of them. When Ziva glanced over at him, he flashed a smile. Tim rolled his eyes before going back to his typing.

“Where do you think Agent David has a fancy hotel room booked, McGoober?” Tim didn’t answer. “ Who do you think she’s sharing that room with?” That question was aimed more toward just Tony himself, but it made Ziva whip around to face him. Hand covering the phone she sneered.

“None of it is any of your business, Tony.”

Tony’s brows went up. “Hot mystery date?” Tony hummed. Ziva muttered a few more things before slamming the phone down onto the receiver.

Tim looked over at the woman. “Weekend getaway canceled?” Tony shifted towards Tim’s direction.

Ziva muttered a curse in Hebrew before saying, “Incompetent receptionist double booked our rooms and since we were not the first to book - they canceled!”

“Find another hotel?” Tim suggested.

“With the holiday coming up? It is no good.” Tony’s gaze flickered back and forth between the two.

“Why does McDork know about your plans?”

Ziva looked at Tony. A smirk grew on her face. “McGee suggested the place. Helped me plan. Along with Y/N. And Abby.” As Ziva listed off names, Tony’s mouth fell agape. He adjusted his suit jacket and cleared his throat.

“You don’t want my help?”

Ziva let out a chuckle. The elevator dinged and out stepped you. Backpack slung over your shoulder and shades covering your eyes from the bright lights of N.C.I.S. headquarters, you groaned when a passing agent knocked against you to catch the closing elevator. With the thoughts of Ziva’s getaway weekend being stored away for a moment, Tony found a new toy to play with: a hungover probie.

Tim’s own lips curved into a smile. Just because he wasn’t as annoying as Tony didn’t mean he didn’t enjoy hazing the newest addition to the team. “Probie– ” Tony snapped as you passed. “Coming in a little late, aren’t you?” Wincing at the boom of Tony’s voice, you glared at him through your dark shades, flicking a middle finger at him. Tony’s bottom lip jutted out.

“Rough night?” Ziva chuckled again.

You shook your head. “Last night was great. This morning is rough.” You dropped your bag on the ground. Needing something to get rid of the headache, you reached for McGee’s mug that sat on his desk. He let out a noise of complaint as you downed the lukewarm and bitter coffee. You and McGee made similar faces – yours for the distaste of how the agent liked his coffee and his at how you stole his drink.

Collapsing into your chair, you squeezed your eyes shut. The lights in the office were still too bright even with the large frames sitting on your face. “Ziva has to cancel her weekend trip.” Tony mused.

Turning your head in the direction of Ziva, you lifted your shades up a smidge, wincing over at Ziva. “Oh no,” You said. “Did he cancel or did you?” Tony perked at the mention of a he. Ziva shushed at you. Tim’s eyebrows shot up. Tony noticed.

“You don’t know who she was going with?”

Ziva glared over Tim. “I-I… thought it was a simple girl’s trip or something.”

“We should do a girl’s trip.” You mumbled, resting your head onto your desk, covering it with your arms, trying to block out all light and sound.

“I could help plan that.” Tony said. Ziva looked over at the Italian man. The corners of her mouth ticked upward.

“I’m sure you’d like to do more than plan it, DiNozzo.”

Tony stood up from his chair, hands smoothing out his suit jacket. His fingers unbuttoned the few buttons that held the jacket together. It gave his arms better mobility when his hands went to the pockets of his slacks, stepping around his desk towards Agent David. “I’ll have you know,” he had a smarmy smile on his face, “I keep up with all the latest trends regarding women’s beachwear.”

Tim rolled his eyes again, turning his attention over to your form at the desk next to him. He grabbed a sticky note, rolling it into a ball and chucking it at your head. You groaned, swatting a hand blindly in the direction of which the ammunition came from.

Ziva’s eyes were locked with Tony’s, a playful glint in her eyes as Tony stepped closer to her desk. Tony started again, “Depending on where you go – France, Italy, Ibiza – you’ll need to know what’s trending in those places. Europe tends to have a less is more policy when it comes to swimwear.”

Ziva’s smirk turned into a grin and Tony noticed that she seemed to be looking past him. Oh god. Taking a breath, Tony ran his hands over his shirt to smooth it again out of nervousness. He turned and came face to face with The Boss. Leroy Jethro Gibbs looked at Tony curiously. Fresh cup of coffee in his hand, there was a moment of silence. Tim chuckled silently to himself. You notice the lack of noise in the room and peeked up from under your limbs.

“I didn’t peg you for a speedo guy, DiNozzo.” Gibbs stated. Ziva snorted.

“B-boss–” Tony stuttered. He was stopped by the prompt slap across the back of his head with Gibbs’ free hand. Tony grimaced and made his way back to his desk. Gibbs stopped at your desk on his way to his own. You straightened up.

“Feeling okay, Agent?” He asked. You nodded quickly, sliding the glasses off your face, trying hard not to wince too much at the lights. Gibbs set the coffee in his hand on your desk. You flashed him a sheepish smile. Gibbs nodded subtly and turned towards his desk.

He leaned over his desktop computer, hand on the mouse, clicking a few things before saying, “We got a case.” Everyone perked at this. “New York City.” Ziva and Tim let out an “Ooh.” You hummed. Tony made a face. “Grab your stuff. We’re on a plane in an hour. Ducky and Palmer are already on their way to the airport.”

Gibbs made his way over to the elevator quickly, go-bag in hand and thinking of a place to get another quick cup of coffee since he donated his to you. Ziva and Tim grabbed their things and headed towards the elevator that was being held open by Gibbs. Tony and you moved more slowly.

Your excuse was your hangover, hoping the plane had something to wake you up. Tony’s was the thought of going to Manhattan. Shrugging your backpacks on, you both made your way over to the elevator. “You don’t look too happy. I figure you would love N.Y.C.” You mumbled. Tony let out a grunt.

“I would if Senior didn’t live there.” Tony tried to mumble back quietly. But everyone heard. Ziva let out an excited and quiet gasp at the mention of Tony’s eccentric father. Tim had a goofy smile, the pain of Tony potentially seeing his father making him warm with happiness. You let out a snort, amused. Gibbs let the doors close with a smirk on his face.

Special Victims Unit | 16th Precinct

Manhattan, New York

Thursday, November 17th

8:26 A.M.

The plane ride was short. D.C. wasn’t that far from New York City. Thankfully, it was enough time to sober up from your impromptu night of drinking with your sister. When the chill of the city air hit you, you shivered. It was late fall and everyone was already starting to talk of the upcoming winter being a rough one. Thanksgiving was only two weeks away and everyone around seemed to be hustling and bustling more than normal to prepare for a day surrounded by family members who they may or may not like, let alone love. After the team settled into the hotel rooms, the next morning, bright and early, you and the team made their way over to the office of ManHattan’s Special Victims Unit. Tim gave you a copy of the case file before slipping into his shared room with Tony the night before and when you read through it before bed and before you left for the office this morning, you couldn’t help but take a shaky breath.

A naval intelligence officer named Rochelle Eshwatay was essentially tortured, raped, and left for dead. Given her position in the Navy, it was quickly assumed her attacker wanted information about the U.S. Navy.

Before being led up to the S.V.U. office, Dr. Donald Mallard and Jimmy Palmer met the rest of the team in the lobby of the station. Tony made a comment about Palmer’s “I heart NYC” baseball cap. Ziva was quick to assure the N.Y.C. giddy M.E. assistant that his hat looked very nice on his head.

When the elevator dinged, the large team of federal agents exited and were surrounded by New York cops dressed in their uniforms. Some looked over at the nicely dressed agents. Gibbs led the pack, asking a young cop where the office of Olivia Benson was. The boy – probably fresh out of the academy – pointed to some closed doors past the bullpen.

The bullpen was scattered with desks. Papers scattered on practically every surface. Phones rung nonstop. Cops scurried past them - some with witnesses, victims, or perps. In the middle of the pen, a blond man with perfectly quaffed hair saw the out of place group. He stood up quickly, lanky and all limbs. He flashed a sideways smile. “Uh, hello– ” He held out a hand. “Detective Dominick Carisi Jr. but uh, you can call me Sonny.” Gibbs shook Sonny’s hand.

Tim leaned over to Tony, “Looks like we got another Italian Junior.”

“Can it, McNuisance.” Your hand lifted up to your face, scratching the tip of your nose to hide your smile.

Gibbs shot a look over to the two men. Ducky let out a sigh at the shenanigans. When Gibbs looked back at Sonny, he said, “Looking for Captain Benson.” Gibbs dug a hand in his suit pocket, pulled out his badge and flashed it at the man. “N.C.I.S.” Gibbs stated. At that, Sonny’s face lit up.

“Oh, wow–” He grinned. “It’s great to meet you all! How’s D.C.?” Sonny started in with a list of questions. Some about NCIS in general, some about the Navy, some about how you were all liking New York. Sonny was stopped though – not because of any of you – but by the sound of the office door opening.

A line of people filed out. A black man who gave a quizzical look to the newcomers in his bullpen. A blonde woman who squinted at the group, bristling as she made her way over to Sonny. A dark haired man stood by the door, looking over the group before turning his head into the office. “Hey, uh, Cap,” His voice was deep and he glanced over at your group again. “Feds are here.”

At the door, a woman stood. She was tall, dark haired - pretty. She thanked Nick before flashing everyone a smile. “Hello, welcome.” She said, “I’m Captain Olivia Benson,” Gibbs stepped forward, hand already outstretched.

“Special Agent Gibbs.” He gave her a curt nod. As Olivia and Gibbs were giving introductions to each other, you noticed another man standing by her office doors. While the rest of the - you assumed detectives - were dressed smartly and professional, this man was dressed like he was ready for a Gala or very important TV appearance. His eyes were green. You were surprised you could see them from practically the other side of the room. He was looking at all of you carefully and when he landed on you, he straightened. He stepped into the bullpen, walking over to the black man who sat at a desk. He bent down and whispered something to him.

Your gaze shifted from him to Olivia. “Looks like you brought the whole agency.” She chuckled. It was a bit uneasy. But she shook it off and motioned to her own team. “This is my Sergeant, Odafin Tutuola,”

“You can call me Fin though,” He had a cool drawl to his voice. Looking at him more carefully, you noticed that out of everyone, he was dressed the most casual. Still dressy, but you could tell he wasn’t the type of guy who wanted to be in a stuffy suit all day.

“Detectives Nick Amaro,” the angry looking guy who told Olivia she had guests, “Amanda Rollins,” the skeptical blonde who was currently telling Sonny to shut up, “and Sonny Carisi.” Sonny grinned.

The last unnamed person stepped up and stood next to Olivia. “I am Assistant District Attorney Rafael Barba.” He cooly stated. Your eyebrows shot up curiously. Tony grumbled about Rule #13. It made Rafael’s eyes flicker over to the Italian and Ziva elbowed him in the side.

“Ouch, David.”

Gibbs paused for a moment. He motioned to his right. “Special Agents Anthony DiNozzo, Timothy McGee, Ziva David, and Y/N Y/L/N.” He motioned to his left. “Dr. Ducky Mallard and his assistant Jimmy Palmer.” Jimmy waved at the New York team. When nobody matched his vigor, he pushed his round glasses up his nose nervously.

“Doctor?” Nick asked.

“Ah yes,” Ducky spoke. His Scottish accent made Fin’s eyes widen and Amanda to raise her brows, a small uptick on the corner of her mouth. “Mr. Palmer and I are medical examiners. We were told that you have a body. No sense in waiting for it to come to D.C. so we tagged along. Mr. Palmer was more than excited to come to the Big Apple.”

Olivia genuinely smiled at the older man. “I mean no offense Doctor, but our M.E. already started.”

“Oh dear,” Ducky muttered.

Jimmy adjusted his glasses again. “Where exactly is that happening?”

“Downstairs.” Amanda said.

“Come Mr. Palmer, we must go make sure nothing is missed.” Ducky exclaimed to the younger man. Olivia glanced over at Gibbs. “Where did you leave the bags?”

“In the lobby, Doctor.”

“Hmm,” Ducky hummed. The two started towards the elevators again.

“Head down to the basement,” Olivia called after them, taking a few steps, “and ask for Dr. Melinda Warner. She will happily talk you through everything she’s doing.” Ducky and Palmer said their thanks before they disappeared behind the closing metal doors.

“If uh, we could talk in my office,” Olivia threw a thumb over her shoulder. Gibbs stared at her for a moment before giving the slightest nod.

“Play nice,” he said, his gaze lingering a little too long on Tony. Tony gave a tight lipped smile.

When Gibbs and Olivia finally disappeared behind closed doors, everyone seemed frozen in place. Carisi was curious about the Italian sounding name of Tony. He was never afraid to puff up his chest against another self loving Italian. Amanda’s gaze was locked onto Ziva. Both women had a hard and intimidating aura to those who didn’t know them but once you broke down that hard exterior, they were fun loving and surprisingly, loved to gossip.

Tim shifted under the intense gaze of Nick. While Nick was a constant brooder, he was still someone who likes to give people chances. Stepping over to Tim, Nick gave him a small and polite smile. “We have coffee in the kitchen if you guys want some..”

Fin stood up, stretched and ushered Tim over to the kitchen with Nick trailing behind. That left you under the gaze of the lawyer. His hands slid into the pockets of his slacks. He wore a dark blue suit, a burnt orange tie popped against the white of his dress shirt. He stepped towards you. “Rule #13?” He asked.

You flashed him a small smile, apologetic. “Don’t involve lawyers.” There was a pause. Barba stopped the rolling of his eyes. “But an A.D.A. for Manhattan… that’s pretty impressive .” He glanced over at you before fixing his eyes on Tony and Carisi. Carisi was yapping his ear off and you couldn’t help but grin. This was probably the first time Tony had been given a taste of his own medicine.

“Being a federal agent is also impressive,” Rafael stated. He wasn’t confident in what your age was, but he knew you were the youngest on the team. He was confident with how you had this energy about you. It was similar to Carisi. You weren’t too broken down and trodden with everyone’s feelings and traumas, like Olivia. To be a federal agent at your age meant that you needed to be smart, tactful, and fearless. Dealing with the military – no matter the branch – meant that you could hold your own against those with large attitudes and personalities that could run rampant in the ranks.

“Why exactly are you here?”

“To make sure the transfer of the case goes smoothly,” he said, “and since it’s a matter of national security and the crime happened in New York, the D.A. wants to know everything that happens. Maybe even be the district to prosecute.”

“ Ah, so you’re a spy.” You looked over at him and his gaze was already on you. “Would you be the lead prosecutor?”

He shrugged a shoulder, “Depends on if we have any more sex crimes.” His phone vibrated in his suit jacket. He pulled it out, reading the message from his assistant before sliding the phone back into his pocket. “I sure hope to hell there isn’t.” Was all he said before he waved at the rest of the group.

“See ya, Barba!” called Carisi. Tony jolted his head away from the volume of Carisi’s voice. You watched the lawyer make his way through the crowd of cops and to the elevator. After pressing the button, he glanced over at you one last time before stepping into the box.

***

Olivia sat at her desk, offering Gibbs the chair in front of it. He held up a hand, declining, wanting to stand. He glanced around the office. He made note of the photos on Olivia’s desk. Her with a small brown haired boy throughout the years. The most recent picture seemed to be a school picture.

After a moment, Olivia spoke, “I’m sad to see the case being transferred.” Gibbs listened. “Since it happened in New York, I would hope that we would get jurisdiction.”

“She was a Navy officer.”

Olivia nodded. “We have the files for you. But uh, we could show you around. Take you to where she was found. To the hospital.” Gibbs rocked slightly on the balls of his feet. Olivia finally noticed how little this man talked. Her thoughts reeled with how he could lead a large team but the sight of his military approved haircut would push those questions away. No wonder he was a Navy cop – he was probably ex-military himself.

“I’ll have the team split up and I can show you down to the M.E. 's office. Hopefully your doctor found his way.” Gibbs just gave a nod.

***

The two teams were split up into different groups. Amanda, Tim, and Fin stayed at the precinct. Amanda needed help going over security footage and traffic cams that surrounded the hospital. Hopefully they would find the person who dumped Rochelle on the ground like garbage.

Ziva and Tony were shown to the hospital by Nick. Hopefully being able to catch the EMTs who found Rochelle would give them something new, despite already being spoken to by Rollins and Carisi days earlier.

Speaking of Carisi, you and him stayed at the precinct as well. He nonchalantly brought up how he didn’t have clearance for certain files that may help the case. After being told a very well thought and thorough argument, you nodded and logged into with your credentials on his computer.

When Fin chuckled, you gave him a questioning look. “He’s studying to be a lawyer just like Barba. That’s why he’s so persuasive.” You quirked a brow at Carisi and he went pink in the cheeks, a smile on his lips.

“Fordham Law,” he shrugged sheepishly.

“What kind of lawyer do you want to be?” You asked.

Sonny shrugged again. “Maybe be a prosecutor, maybe work with S.V.U.. But it’ll be a while to get to that. And I don’t think Barba is looking for a new job quite yet.”

Ambulance Bay | Bellevue Hospital

Manhattan, New York

Thursday, November 17th

11:53 A.M.

“I do not see why people must drive like maniacs!” Ziva exclaimed, slamming the door to the car. Tony shot a look over to the woman. “Why do they not move when the light is green?” Nick Amaro finally got out of the car, sliding the keys into his pocket. He let out a nervous laugh. “All of the honking! It makes me want to rip my head off-”

“-pull your hair out.” Tony corrected.

“Yes, that too.”

On the ride over, midday traffic hit the city like a plague. Getting over to Bellevue took longer than expected but it gave Nick ample opportunity to get to know the two Navy cops. Tony was the most senior agent within the group, much to Agent David’s moans of being a child most of the time. Tony was eccentric in a way. When passing a monumental New York landmark, he would quip with a line from a movie that Nick knew was too old for him to know about. Tony had also groaned when his phone went off. Nick was able to catch the screen denoting the word “Senior” before Tony silenced the phone.

Ziva was interesting. He couldn’t place the accent she had. He almost thought of her as a Spanish speaker like himself, but when Nick was cut off by a large truck, Ziva from the back seat, started to swear at the anonymous driver in Hebrew. Although Nick didn’t know it was Hebrew until Tony clipped, “Shabbat shut up, David. He can’t hear you!” Ziva leaned forward, face peeking at Tony from behind his seat. She muttered more things in Hebrew. Obviously threats. Tony hissed over at her, waving a hand to push her back to the seat.

Before going into the ambulance bay of the hospital, Nick showed the agents to where the paramedics found Rochelle Eshwatay. The stain of dried blood was still there, despite the sidewalk being busy with city goers. Ziva looked from the sidewalk and to the entrance to the emergency room. “Help was only thirty yards away.” A loud wail of a siren went off. The two agents and the detective watched an ambulance make its way from the hospital parking lot and into the jungle of New York traffic, weaving in and out of lanes before disappearing down a one way street.

“File said she had no I.D. on her?” That was Tony.

Nick nodded. “She was a Jane Doe until she woke up the next day. She was in the system because of being a Navy officer. She has an older brother somewhere stationed in Iraq. Marine. She couldn’t remember anything when she woke up.”

“Did you contact her commanding officer?”

Nick nodded again. “We went to the Navy port. She was approved for the weekend off. Signed out of the base Friday at 1600. Was ordered to sign back in at 0900 Monday. She was found early Monday morning - around 3am. They had no idea where she went or who she saw. Let alone that she was taken and tortured.”

“Who found her?” Ziva asked.

“EMTs. John Terry and Eliza Woland. Hospital said they should be having lunch right now.” The three of them made their way down the sidewalk and into the hospital parking lot. Making their way around the back towards the resting ambulances. Nick spoke to an EMT, asking where their informants were. He pointed to a truck parked a few yards away. “Terry, Woland.” Nick called out.

The double doors opened at the back of the ambulance. A small brunette woman with a short pixie cut came into view. “Detective... Sonny?” She was skeptical.

“Amaro.”

“ Ah, sorry. Been a long shift.” She sat down in the ambulance, legs swinging over the edge. “How can I help you?”

“These are Special Agents DiNozzo and David.” Nick introduced the new faces as Tony and Ziva flashed their badges. “NCIS. They want to know about the morning you found Rochelle Eshwatay.”

The woman’s face was saddened. “Yeah, that was rough.” She paused. “We found her unconscious on the sidewalk, in a pool of blood. Blunt force trauma to the head, weak pulse. We thought she was dead until Terry found a pulse. She had burns all over her, a lot of them fresh. When we moved her to the gurney, we noticed the blood coming from..” The woman motioned to her abdomen, Ziva nodded.

“Where is Terry?” Tony asked.

“Getting lunch.” The woman continued her story. How they checked the surroundings after wheeling her to the ER. They gave the on scene cops their statements and then SVU when they came around. All the statements were clear and lined up. Terry finally made an appearance fifteen minutes later with two white bags and a tray of two coffees. He told the same story as Woland dug into her tomato caprese sandwich. The agents and detectives left with no new information. Tony told Nick to drive towards the Navy port.

Office of Dr. Melinda Warner | 16th Precinct

Manhattan, New York

Thursday, November 17th

12:10 P.M.

Once reaching the basement of the precinct, Olivia could hear the faint sound of laughter. Was that... Melinda? Olivia’s steps quickened, and Gibbs was sure to keep up. When they entered the large examiner’s room, it smelt sterile. The body of Rochelle was laid on a metal table. She was covered by a white sheet.

By the sink, washing her hands, Dr. Melinda Warner had a smile on her face. Dr. Mallard was still rambling on about a story of some sorts. “And so we thought the bloody thing was dead but then it awoke! The chancellor let out a garish yelp and jumped so much himself that his costly toupee flew off his head and onto the roasted pig.”

Jimmy let out a chuckle. He sat to the side, cleaning instruments carefully. He was dressed in his blue scrubs while Melinda and Ducky wore matching white coats. “Oh, hello Olivia.” Melinda said when she finally calmed down. A few chuckles bubbled up but she stopped them when Gibbs came into her view.

“Making friends, Duck?” His voice had a subtle tinge of amusement.

“Jethro!” Ducky exclaimed. “And Captain Benson, so nice of you to join us.” He plucked his medical gloves off with a snap. “I was telling Dr. Warner here of my dinner with the German chancellor back in ‘95.”

Gibbs smirked. “That’s not even the worst dinner they had together.”

Ducky hummed. “Yes, true. In ‘99, there was a case of food poisoning.” Before Ducky could indulge into that story, Gibbs stopped him with a simple question of what they all found.

Olivia was bemused by the Scotsman. Olivia felt that the man had a plethora of stories to tell and that made Olivia warm with happiness. Warner stepped over to Gibbs. She held out a freshly washed and dried hand and introduced herself. Gibbs did the same.

“Would you like to take the lead, Doctor?” Ducky asked the woman. Warner gave a smirk and then started.

“We believe C.O.D. was a brain bleed from the constant impact to the back of her skull. The doctors at Bellevue stopped one bleed but this one in particular wasn’t able to be seen on scans. We’ll be able to see more once we open her up.” Warner motioned to Rochelle’s head. “She was hit multiple times with something hard and blunt.”

“The shape of the indent makes us think of a pipe or bat.” Ducky chimed in. “Based on the burns on her arms and legs, she was tortured for hours. Maybe even days.” Ducky’s voice grew more solemn. “As you can see,” he grasped Rochelle’s arm tenderly and pointed to a few burns in particular, “some burns are more healed than others.” Olivia and Gibbs looked at the burns. Some were more pink. The flesh tried to heal itself while she was still alive. Others were more dark and starting to scab.

“We believe she was sexually assaulted with the same thing she was beaten with.” Melinda said quietly. Olivia’s expression softened. Gibbs bristled. Jimmy blinked a few times, hanging his head down while holding a pair of forceps. They shone in the light. Ducky’s lips pursed, giving a shake to his head.

“Awful thing they did to this Navy officer, Jethro.”

Gibbs nodded at his old friend. “We need to find out why.”

“With the general look over, I found dirt and grime under her fingernails. A light colored hair follicle was caught in her braids. Mr. Palmer was sure to collect them all.” Ducky said. “Ms. Sciuto was very upset when told she couldn’t make the trip to New York. But Dr. Warner assured us that the NYPD has their own forensics team.” Ducky looked over at the fellow doctor with a small smile. “Whoever did this was focused on the job, Jethro.” Ducky sighed. “There’s some anger to it but they were on a mission. You said she was a Naval Intelligence Officer?” Gibbs nodded. “Best find out what intelligence she had access to.”

***

You were sitting at an empty desk. You assume it to be Nick’s since a picture of a girl who shared his same features was on it, smiling at you. You had brought your laptop and Carisi was on his. You had gotten some information on the detective as you both searched for matching MOs. After learning about his budding lawyer career, he spoke of New York and how he grew up in Brooklyn. The thick accent gave it away but it was still nice to hear him talk about it. When he brought up how he was the newest addition to the team, you couldn’t help but grin and say, “Me too!”

“Oh yeah?” He chuckled. “How long have you been at N.C.I.S.?”

“About nine months.” You looked over your screen at him. “You?”

“Around six months.”

“You should have seen him when he first joined.” Fin called out from across the desks. The man had perked up at the sound of jovial noise from you and Carisi. “He had this god awful mustache.” Sonny’s cheeks went pink.

The Southern drawl of Amanda joined in. “He looked like he just came off a porn set.” Tim, who was sitting between the two detectives, smiled at the joke.

You had let out a giggle when Rollins pulled out her phone – a loud protest from Sonny rocked the room – and showed you a plethora of Sonny sporting a mustache. Sonny grabbed the phone but instead of deleting the pictures, he simply held it up next to his face and stroked his upper lip. “I think I looked dignified.”

“I don’t think Tony or Tim could grow something as beautiful.” You quipped. Tim’s mouth fell open a smidge.

“I could grow a mustache. And a beard.”

“I don’t think you could, Tim.” You chuckled. “But neither can Tony so I don’t think you’re in bad company.”

“Not bad, just annoying.” Tim grumbled. He, Amanda, and Fin were slaving away at an endless amount of footage. Some from stores on the street, some from the hospital themselves. Tim had sent over the most unrecognizable and choppiest bits of footage over to Abby back in D.C. She sent back a scathing email about how she should have been on that plane with everyone else despite the lecture she was given by Director Vance about how she had other cases and evidence to work over.

Carisi and you were looking through database after database for some sort of connection. With your level of clearance, Carisi had to push the curiosity away of looking up dumb conspiracy theories like who killed Princess Diana or if Area 51 was real. He didn’t even know if you had the clearance for that, but the inkling to try was still there. Carisi looked up from his screen when you made a noise.

He hummed back at you, curious. You turned your screen. “Found a similar case.” Carisi read the screen. A seventeen year old girl was found dead outside of a hospital in San Francisco. Small, circular burns on her body. Blunt force to the head. But she wasn’t raped. “Almost identical.”

“She wasn’t Navy though.”

“Who?” Amanda asked. Carisi explained, Tim and Fin perked at the sound of the new information. When you said the name of the girl who died – Connie Jameson – Tim made a face. Your eyes flickered over to your team mate. You knew that look. Timothy McGee had the wheels in his head turning. Tim grabbed the file off of Fin’s desk. Fin made a noise but it was ignored. Shuffling through the papers, Tim finally found what he was looking for.

“Jameson–” Tim mumbled under his breath. “Ronald Jameson was the commanding officer of Rochelle. He’s currently on the S.S. Teddy Roosevelt that’s ported here in New York.”

“Are they even related?” Fin asked, regarding Connie and Ronald.

You and Carisi looked back at your screen before nodding, almost simultaneously. “It’s her father.” Carisi said. “I think we found a first break.”

You were already pulling out your phone as Carisi said that. You found Tony’s contact. The line trilled twice before Tony answered. “Are we going back home yet?”

“No, I think we’re going to stay even longer.”

Tony groaned. “What is it?”

“Eshwatay’s commanding officer had a daughter who was murdered the same way about four years ago in California.” Your eyes went over the case again as Tony hummed. “She wasn’t raped but it’s too close to not look into.”

“Guess it’s a good thing we’re headed to the Navy port.” Tony said. He finished the call with a command to forward the Jameson case to him and Ziva. “Boss should know.” You agreed and ended the call.

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