I got this message from @larkistin this morning, so I thought, hey, why not write a little something?
It’s a short one, and I have NO IDEA what the deal is with Charlie Brown characters, but here you go…
Barba hated changes to his schedule.
He was a planner, perhaps not naturally, but he had come to
prize efficiency over the years, and knew how important order and design were
to everything he did.
Something as simple as choosing what to have for lunch was
thought through.
But shifts in the judge’s schedule were something he could
not control, and on this particular day, he admittedly would have opted for a
much lighter lunch had he known she was moving things up an hour.
Now, an hour into cross-examination, lunchtime was having its
effect.
Normally, Barba could push right through.
But the courthouse A/C was having issues, and their
courtroom was particularly warm.
Not only that, but the judge had the most monotone voice he’d
heard in ages.
It was like listening to Charlie Brown’s teacher argue a
case.
Barba smiled to himself as he imagined it. Opposing counsel
did bear a slight resemblance to Lucy, and her client, when questioned out of
court may as well have been Pigpen, the way he reeked when he was brought in.
Who would he be, then?
Not Charlie Brown. He never liked Charlie Brown. All that nervous self-doubt.
And Barba certainly had better hair. That kid a serious case of early onset male pattern
baldness.
Snoopy. That was who he was.
Snoopy was whatever the occasion called for. A skilled
fighter atop his red doghouse as the Red Baron.
Or Joe Cool.
Joe Cool would certainly know how to…
Barba felt his head bob, realizing too late that he’d
drifted off. The surprise jolted him so much so he leapt from his chair.
All eyes were on him, so he did the only thing that it made
sense to do – at least, that’s what he told himself.
“Objection, your honor.”
“On what grounds?”
Barba blinked away the ‘wah, wah, wah’ sounds in his ears
and replied, “Er, relevance, your honor.”
“Counsel simply asked for her full name.”
“And I’d…argue that her full name is already on record and
not relevant to these proceedings.”
“Overruled.”
Barba sat down, relieved that the judge had nothing more to
say.
“You okay, Counselor?”
Barba looked over at Carisi, who had asked to second chair on the
case, making his misstep all the more embarrassing.
“I’m fine, Carisi.”
Carisi quickly wrote on the notepad in front of him and set something on top before sliding it over.
Barba looked down to see an unwrapped mint sitting above
Carisi’s neatly printed letters.
Wake up.
Barba took the mint and grumbled to himself. “Thanks, Linus.”
Something with the numbers are off, BUT I got the right request done. Enjoy!
(I may have to send out messages to make sure there wasn’t a mistake on anyone else’s!)
Apologies for any errors. The eyes are finally starting to recover from this afternoon’s dilation.
You jingled your keys as you walked down the hallway, making your presence known as you approached your neighbor.
He’d given you a key to his place months ago when you offered to water his plants while he was away for the weekend.
Just because you lived in the city didn’t mean you had to stop being neighborly.
Good thing, too, for him, since he managed to lock himself out of his apartment this particular evening.
“Did I interrupt something?”
He looked you up and down, a move that would normally earn your disgust, but in this case, you understood.
Barba had only ever seen you in your usual daytime attire: jeans or sweats and an oversized t-shirt, glasses, hair pulled back in a messy bun. Standing in front of his door now in a simple black dress, hair down and styled, it was obvious you didn’t just come from the gym or a walk around the block.
“A date, but don’t worry about it.”
His face fell.
“Well, now I really feel bad. Did you get through dinner at least?”
“Appetizers had just been ordered when you called.”
“There’s takeout on its way. You’re welcome to join me. Unless of course you were going to return to your date.”
“No chance of that. He wasn’t too thrilled I took your call.”
“If you’re trying to make me feel worse for calling…”
“Not at all. There are some questionably old Lean Cuisines at my place, so takeout sounds great, so long as you’re sure you don’t mind me intruding. Don’t feel obligated.”
“Please. I always order too much anyway.”
You stepped inside and slipped your shoes off by the door.
“Make yourself comfortable.”
You walked over to the couch and took a seat. You’d been in the apartment before, but it was odd being here as an invited guest. You knew little about your neighbor, other than the fact that he was an ADA who worked long hours, and the apartment itself, while nicely decorated, didn’t tell you much about him.
“Wine?”
Barba set two glasses and a bottle on the coffee table.
“Perfect.”
He filled the glasses and sat beside you, quietly sipping his wine.
“So, I don’t think I know what it is you do?”
“For work?” Of course work, you thought to yourself. Small talk was never your strong point. “I’m a programmer. I contract mostly, and I do a lot of app creation.”
He tipped his head to the side and leaned forward.
“Programming?”
“Yes. What?”
“What do you mean, what?”
“Nine times out of ten, people tune out when I tell them what I do, or ask me if I make things like Candy Crush.”
“Do you?”
You were about to shoot him a dirty look when you caught the smirk on his face.
“Not really.”
“Actually, it just made me think of a case.”
“Oh?”
“There’s a suspect who’s been assaulting women and the thinking was that he was using social media to track them, but they all use different platforms and have different online behavior. We have a suspect, but the detectives are having a hard time finding a connection across victims.”
“Has your team looked to see if they have any other apps in common, maybe something not necessarily social media related?”
“You have something in particular in mind?”
“Something that required them to have their location services enabled. They didn’t have any kind of safety alert app on their phones, did they?”
Barba was texting someone as you spoke. “Why?”
“It would be the perfect way to track unsuspecting victims. If the creator made a backdoor that allowed them to cull personal data and the live location, he could easily stalk his victims. Depending on the app, he might even be able to access their camera on whatever device they were using.”
“Really?”
“Yup.
His phone buzzed and his eyebrows went up.
“Several of the victims have the same alert app. But not all.”
“Tell your team to see if the ones that don’t have the app ever downloaded it. It could have left a ghost app behind that runs in the background. The user wouldn’t know it was there. And then if they find that’s the case, if your tech team has the ability, they can search for a signature in the code and compare it to anything else the suspect has created.”
“You’re saying the guy would be stupid enough to sign his handiwork?”
“Ego is a powerful thing.”
Barba typed in his phone as he got up to answer a knock at the apartment door. He returned with a bag and set it down on the table, still staring on his phone.
“How would you feel about taking the food to go?”
You stood up and nodded. “Not a problem. You’ve got work to do. I can head back to my place.”
“Not what I meant. I was thinking of taking you over to the precinct. Maybe you could help the team look for this signature you’re talking about?”
~~~
“There.”
One of the detectives, Carisi, looked over your shoulder.
“What am I lookin’ at?”
“See that right there?”
He shook his head.
“It looks like everything else.”
His partner, Rollins, pointed to the screen.
“That bit of code right there?”
“Yeah. It doesn’t actually do anything. Is your suspect named Sam, by any chance?”
“His last name is Samuels,” Barba answered. “How did you…?”
“It’s there in the useless code. The first letter of every variable spells out a message, in this case, “Sam I am”. That’s his signature. Given that it’s a pretty old school way of signing your work, he’s probably been using it forever, so I reverse compiled some of his known work with a hex editor, and…”
You slid your chair back and pointed to the screens, showing the same code highlighted in several windows.
“I could kiss you right now.”
You and the two detectives all turned to look at Barba, still staring at the screens.
“Buy the girl dinner first, Barba.”
“Technically, he did,” you said, pointing to the half empty takeout container on the desk in front of you.
“Big spender,” Carisi chimed in.
Barba appeared to be ignoring you all as he put the phone to his ear.
“Carisi, Rollins, what are you waiting for? Fill in Benson and go.”
The detectives thanked you and took off, leaving you with Barba as he finished up on the phone.
“I guess I owe you again.”
“As I see it, I’m owed about two hours of consulting, a proper dinner, and a date. Is there paperwork I need to submit for that? A slightly less traditional expense report?”
Barba rolled his eyes.
“Come on, let’s get you home.”
“I guess that means the offer of a kiss is off the table.”
The two of you walked on to the elevator and he hit the button for the first floor.
“Put it in the report and we’ll see if it gets approved.”
He smiled without looking at you as the elevator doors opened.
First time writing specifically for Amanda - go easy on me. :)
“How are you settling in?”
You finished off your drink and nodded to the waitress for another.
“I think okay. I can’t complain about the team, so that helps on the tougher days.”
Rollins nodded and let out a chuckle. “Yeah, which days are those again?”
“It’s not the easiest job, is it?”
“Nope. But the days we catch these creeps help.”
“Ain’t that the truth.”
Rollins cocked her head to the side, narrowing her eyes.
“I’m sorry, did you just say ain’t? And did I detect a slight drawl?”
The waitress set your drink down and you smiled.
“Oh, just wait until I get through this one. It’ll really start creepin’ out then.”
“I thought you were from here.”
“Oh, no. Abbeville, South Carolina, born and raised.”
“Get out. We were practically neighbors.”
“That’s right, you came up from Atlanta.”
“Loganville originally.”
You raised your glass to Amanda. “To small town Southern girls, then.”
“So what brought you out here?”
“It’s been a slow move North since college. I went to Duke for undergrad, then moved up to Baltimore for my Masters in Intelligence Analysis.”
“Baltimore? John Hopkins.”
You nodded.
“SVU seems an odd choice.”
“I was originally working in counter terrorism, but after a friend was attacked and the case was botched, I decided I wanted to fight a threat a little closer to home.”
“I get that.”
You finished your drink and smiled, hailing the waitress. “Another round and on to better topics.”
“Like what? Men?”
“Heck, no. This is girls’ night. No talk of boys.”
“You and I are gonna get along just fine.”
“We need to stick together, you know. That office reeks of testosterone.”
“They aren’t too bad, though.”
“No, that they aren’t. And that ADA is easy on the eyes.”
Rollins’ eyes widened. “Shut up. You got a thing for Barba?”
“Not a thing. I just don’t mind when he drags his sassy little butt into the squad room. Which totally means I need to stay away. I have the worst taste in men.”
“I hear you on that.”
Rollins laughed as the waitress dropped off your next round. The two of you clinked glasses and you leaned in.
“I have had just enough to drink to think karaoke is a good idea. You?”
“Mmmm, you must be drinkin’ somethin’ stronger, girl.”
“I don’t want to do it alone.” You grabbed her hand. “Pleaaaase?”
She tipped back her drink and stood up. “Why not?”
~~~
You stood by the coffee machine, slowly stirring more sugar into your cup, popping a couple of aspirin before taking a sip. Rollins walked over and you held a few tablets out to her.
“Thanks.”
“Don’t mention it.”
“Mornin’, you two.”
You winced and looked up to see Carisi’s smiling face.
“Why are you so cheerful?” Rollins asked.
“Looks like you two had a good time last night.”
You managed a weak smile. “It was alright.”
“Well, you might want to wake up. Barba’s lookin’ for the both of you.”
You looked over at Rollins and she shrugged. You both made your way over to your desks and saw Barba standing there, looking at his phone.
“Ah, Detectives, can I have a moment?”
“Sure.”
He walked off into the bullpen and you followed, closing the door behind you.
“Is something wrong, Counselor?”
“No. Not really. I just thought you two might want to see this.”
He held out his phone and hit play on a video. There were you and Rollins from last night, loud and slightly off-key, belting out ‘Fancy’.
Rollins hand went to her mouth. “Why do you have this?”
“You two weren’t the only ones out at the bar last night. A few of us from the DAs office were having a drink and had the grand privilege of witnessing your performance.”
“And you thought you should get it on video.”
“I couldn’t get my phone out fast enough.”
Rollins gave him narrow-eyed glare and shook her head. “I’m going back to my desk. You handle him.”
Barba cocked his head to the side, a half-grin on his face.
“Yes, you’re a very clever man. You know how to work a phone. How long do I have until the entire squad sees that? Just want to prepare.”
“Oh, I’m keeping this for myself. I figure if I ever need a favor from you or Rollins, I’m set. Or, you know, if I just need a laugh.” He hit play and smiled. “See? Just don’t get tired of it.”
“You’re the worst, Barba.”
“You have no idea.”
You walked back out to your desk and Rollins caught your eye, raising her eyebrows and giving you a wink. You smiled back. “Next time, we check for spies, k?”
The woman rushed past in a blur, not even a pause to see if
her apology had been accepted.
To be fair, Barba was consumed in texting Benson about the
latest case when it happened, so the minor crash in the hallway was likely as
much his fault as hers. And it wasn’t as if these things never happened in the
courthouse. Everyone was in rush and wrapped up in their own reasons for being
there.
Barba wouldn’t have given it a second thought, if it hadn’t
happened again the next day.
Again, a rushed apology, the woman barely still long enough
for Barba to catch a glimpse. If it wasn’t for the familiar timbre of her
voice, and the scent of magnolia left in her wake, he wouldn’t have known it
was the same woman.
For just a moment, he wondered why she was in such a rush.
Was she a witness in a case? A court reporter, maybe?
Whoever she was, she seemed to have a bad habit of running
late.
Barba hated dealing with people who couldn’t be on time.
Whoever she was, he was glad she wasn’t heading for his courtroom.
~~
“Rafael!”
Barba glanced up from his phone and walked over to the
counter to grab the coffee cup waiting there. His gaze shifted back to his
phone as he walked toward the door, only to be stopped by a tap on the
shoulder.
“Excuse me, but I think you have my coffee.”
Barba turned to find himself face-to-face with the voice
from the courthouse halls.
“What?”
The woman held up the cup in her hand, pointing to the name
on the side.
“I’m not Rafael, and I’m guessing you aren’t Mercedes.”
Barba examined the cup and confirmed what she was saying.
Scrawled across the side was something that resembled a name, and definitely
not his own. He held the cup out to her and exchanged it for his own.
“Sorry about that.”
“Yeah, well, it happens from time to time when you’re tied
to your phone.”
“Are you blaming me
for the last two days? As I recall, those run-ins might have been prevented if
someone hadn’t been in such a rush.”
“I think we can share the blame for that. And considering I
just saved your life, I think we can call it good.”
“Saved my life?”
“Or at least your stomach. You wouldn’t want my coffee. It’s
basically jet fuel.”
Barba smiled. “Clearly, you’re unfamiliar with my coffee
habits.”
“Is that an invitation?” She continued without waiting for a response. “I doubt they compare to mine.”
“Are we competing for who is more caffeine dependent now?”
She laughed, her nose crinkling as she did. Barba found
himself smiling as she tucked her hair behind her ear and shook her head.
“It would appear that’s the case. What’s sad is I’m actually
enjoying this.” She glanced down at her watch and frowned. “Unfortunately, all
good things come to an end.”
“Running late for something else?”
The woman’s eyes narrowed slightly, but she managed a smile.
“Very funny. It was nice running into you again, Rafael.”
Barba finally sipped his triple espresso and nodded. “You
too.”
She walked out the door, Barba left wondering if he might be lucky enough to crash into her once more.
Hi could i ask for something with Barba in which the witness faints during either the trial or the prep and he runs to help her? If you are not having too many asks of course. I wouldn't want you to get too overwhelmed.
It didn’t make any sense, but it felt a good 15 degrees
hotter on the stand in the courtroom than it did in the hall. The cardigan you
were grateful for in the chilly hallway was cumbersome, holding in the heat
emanating from your body.
You told yourself that testifying was the right thing to do,
that your anxiety wouldn’t be an issue. It usually flared up in crowds, but not
in front of them.
But you hadn’t factored in the walk up the steps. The
reporters and bystanders, yelling, holding up signs, and the worst part,
pressing in against you as you made your way inside.
ADA Barba and Detective Rollins had been with you every step
of the way, quite literally as you made your way to court. Even so, you knew
the damage had been done.
You did your best to focus on the ADA as he asked his
questions, just as you had prepared for in the days leading to trial. Your
vision was beginning to blur and your mouth was dry, but you pushed past it.
When the defense attorney started in, you kept telling
yourself you didn’t have much further to go. He couldn’t have many more
questions, could he?
Your chest felt tight, your heart beating faster, words
barely coming out.
“Your honor?”
The judge looked down at you, a strange look on her face.
“I’ll remind you to answer your questions out loud for the
record.”
You nodded, croaking out a ‘yes’.
The attorney asked another question.
“I answered that already.”
“I’m just looking for clarification. You’re saying you didn’t
call my client on the night in question?”
“No. I didn’t say that.”
“Are you sure?”
You were seeing two attorneys now, and knew you were in
trouble. You glanced over at Barba who was standing now, but you couldn’t make
out what he was saying as he rushed out from behind his table. You could only feel yourself swaying to the side,
before you crashed into the floor below you.
…
“Are you sure? She’s bleeding.”
It was the ADAs voice you heard as you started to open your
eyes, his face the first one you saw.
“Barba? What happened.”
His eyes widened as he looked away from the person he’d been
addressing and down at you. He wasn’t wearing his jacket and there was blood on
the sleeve of his shirt.
“I should have objected. He was badgering you, but it was
making him look bad, not you, so I let it go on.”
You shook your head, wincing at how much it hurt.
“This isn’t your fault. I should have said something…”
“Said something?”
Rollins looked at her phone and stood up.
“Paramedics are rolling up. I’ll go meet them.”
As she walked off you took a deep breath. You hated talking
to people about your anxiety. You barely understood it yourself sometimes, and
you certainly had learned to expect little understanding from others.
“I sometimes have anxiety attacks. I’ve learned over the
years what my triggers are, so I work within the confines of what I know I can
get away with.”
“Was it being on the stand?”
“No, at least I don’t think so. I think I would have been
okay if we hadn’t gone through the crowd outside. That got it started, so it
didn’t take much to push me over the edge I guess.”
You pushed yourself off the floor into a sitting position beside Barba.
“Are you sure you should do that? You hit your head pretty
hard on the way down.”
“I’m sure it looks worse than it is. Sadly I have a bit of
experience with this.”
“I wish I had known. I would have prepared you better, or
found a way to bring you in without the crowd.”
You laid your hand on Barba’s, surprised when he interlaced
his fingers with yours.
“Careful, Barba. Hard to do this job if you get too soft-hearted.” He managed a smile, the first since he’d been sitting there with
you. You squeezed his hand and leaned against him. “At least the jury is
probably feeling pretty bad for me right about now, right?”
His smile broadened.
“Made the defense look heartless.”
“Well, then, at least if I’m mildly concussed, it’s for a
good cause.”
Rollins entered the courtroom with paramedics in tow.
“Alright, Barba, let the professionals take over.”
Barba stayed put, a reluctant look on his face.
“I’ll be okay. I promise. I’ll be bandaged up and in the
gallery before you can miss me. Not that you’ll miss me…”
Barba squeezed your hand before letting go and standing to
the side, realizing in that moment that he would miss you.
“Sorry about the A/C. I swear, summer came on quick this year. It will cool down eventually in there, it just takes a bit.”
Barba had never been to your apartment before, and of course, the summer had to settle in today, before you had a chance to get your A/C unit fixed. You handed him a cold beer before sitting in the bright blue plastic patio chair on your balcony.
This is another imagine request that came in, but I slipped on the trackpad and somehow deleted it - but the request was you wanting to take all the dogs home from the dog shelter, and Barba caving and letting you have two. (@abrasivepersonalitytendersoul)
“Come on, just come meet some of them.”
Barba met you at the shelter, as he sometimes did since you started volunteering, to walk you home. He would never come in, and you were dying to get him to.
You knew if he could just see these little cuties, he would fall in love.
Or at least, you hoped he would.
“They are just a hairy, smelly, slobbery responsibility.”
“Well, I brought you home, didn’t I?”
He cocked his head to one side and gave you a look.
“It was a joke. Just this once. At least, if for nothing else, to see what I’m spending my time here for.”
You walked him by the kennels, pausing by each one to introduce him to the various tenants. You told him their names, their back stories, some quite tragic, but his face remained the same. Unmoved.
Finally, at the last kennel, you unlatched the gate and opened it just a little to let yourself in. He grabbed your arm. “Are you sure it’s safe in there?”
You laughed and grabbed his hand.
:”I’m positive. You trust me, right?”
“It’s not you I’m worried about going for my throat, it’s him.”
He pointed to the huge gray dog laying in the corner.
“First, he is a she, and second, she is a total sweetheart. All bark, no bite. Come to think of it, you two should get along.”
“You are just full of jokes today.”
You walked up and called her name. “Gin!”
She stood up and Barba took a step back.
“Is that even a dog? She’s enormous.”
“She’s a wolfhound. Gin is short for Virginia.”
“Very clever.”
Gin walked up to Barba, sat in front of him and raised her paw. He extended his hand and she gently placed her paw in it.
You swore you saw a smile.
“And this,” you said as you walked behind a partition and reappeared, “is Tonic.”
Snuggled in your arms was a dark gray puppy, letting out a sleepy yawn.
“So you’re a single mom, eh, Gin?” Barba was rubbing her ears now, and you swore you could see him melt just a little when Gin leaned her head against him.
He scratched under her chin as he watched you giggle at Tonic trying to lick your chin.
“You play really dirty, you know that?”
You bit your lip, hoping that meant what you thought it did.
“Get the paperwork together. Looks like we are taking Gin and Tonic with us.”
You skipped up to him and kissed him, Tonic licking his cheek, Gin leaning against him. One big, happy family.
Barba reached for his cup of coffee, letting out an
exasperated sigh as he felt the lack of weight within.
Already empty.
It was his third cup and it was barely 10 o’ clock.
He pushed back from his desk, dragging himself over to the
fancy coffee maker Carmen bought him last year for Bosses’ Day.
As he sipped from the freshly made cup, he made a mental
note to go all out for Administrative Professionals’ Day this year. Carmen more than deserved
it.
The door to his office swung open, his mother standing in
the doorway, Carmen behind her giving him an apologetic shrug.
“To what do I owe the pleasure, Mami?”
He walked over and kissed her cheek and she waved him away.
“You cancelled lunch. Again.”
“I know. I’m sorry. It’s been a long week.”
She stared at her son, her head cocked to one side, eyes
narrowing. It was a look Barba knew well, as he’d seen himself copy it
unconsciously many times.
“You don’t look well.”
“I’m just tired.”
“No, I know what tired looks like. This is more than that.”
Barba sat on the couch next to his mother, staring silently,
before finally letting out a long sigh.
“I had a nightmare,” he paused, feeling out of place, a man
of his age and stature talking to his mother about bad dreams. “I had the
nightmare.”
“El lobo?” [The wolf?]
He nodded.
“I don’t think I’ve had that dream since I was a kid, but it
felt just as terrifying as it did then. I woke up sweating, and after that I
couldn’t really sleep.”
Lucia squeezed her son’s hand.
“Pobrecito…” [poor baby]
“I know it was just a dream. I feel like an idiot letting it
get to me.”
“Sometimes our dreams are telling us something. They say
that wolves in dreams have to do with facing a fear. Maybe there’s something
you need to face? Or you’re afraid to?”
Barba shrugged. “Or maybe I just ate some bad Chinese.”
“Well, that’s definitely possible. You eat like a teenager
sometimes, Rafi.”
Barba put his hands up, smiling.
“I know, I know. I’m
working on it.”
Lucia glanced over at his desk and suddenly stood, walking
over and picking up a small copper figurine in the shape of a flower.
“I didn’t know you kept this here.”
Barba stood, shoving his hands in his pockets, his voice
quiet. “It was hers. I like seeing it there.”
“Your Abuelita loved you so much. You know why she gave this
to you?”
“It’s the national flower. She was proud of where she came
from. Wanted me to be proud to?”
“That might have been part of it. But the flower means more
than that. It represents strength and pureness of heart. It’s what she wished
for you, especially in the face of all the things you see.”
“Even when facing wolves, Mami? Not so subtle.”
“I wasn’t going for subtlety.”
Barba let out a quiet chuckle as she set the flower back on his desk and pat him on
the cheek.
“Dinner, tomorrow night. I promise.”
“Don’t promise. But yes, you better be there.”
He smiled and shook his head as she left his office, running
his finger along the small figure of a flower, picking it up and placing it in his pocket.
~~
He sat down with a glass of scotch, pulling out the tattered
album his Abuelita left for him, gently turning the pages, looking at the
images of family long gone, finally stopping when he got to the letter.
She had told him about the letter, a correspondence between
her grandparents before they were married. The words in the letter weren’t
flowery, far from purple prose, yet they still painted a picture of two people
who were in love. Two people who were completely devoted to one another, no matter what they faced.
He closed the album, setting it aside, leaning his head back
as he contemplated what his mother told him.
Was the wolf a sign that he needed to face a fear?
Maybe.
But which fear was it?
His phone buzzed on the table, a familiar name lighting up
the screen, and he couldn’t help but wonder…
His life was so consumed, he often thought of himself as
someone who wasn’t ready to settle, to commit.
Was that the fear he needed to face? Fear of committing? Or was it the fear that
he’d never find love like the love in that letter?
He pulled the flower from his pocket, rolling it around
between his fingers as he answered the call.
Votes came in for B and C equally, so here’s your recap…
“Uh huh.” Carisi smirked as he leaned forward slightly, glancing around him before speaking in a hushed tone. “Rey had a meeting upstairs to get to. I’m sure she’d be sorry she missed you.”
What?
Why would he say that?
Was he just being Carisi? Or had Reina confided in him?
What was he supposed to do with this information? Wait around for her to get out of her meeting?
And what kind of meeting would she have upstairs?
His mind was swimming with questions, but he wasn’t about to ask Carisi to help him sort them out.
Instead, he walked over to the white box sitting next to the coffee maker, flipping the lid open and grabbing the sticky, flaky pastel. As he closed the lid, he noticed the stamp on the outside, the bakery name - Puerto Viejo - and address.
He couldn’t help but note it was nowhere near her neighborhood or the 1PP.
Was this indicative of something more?
No, no. If her choice of pastry meant anything, she would have brought them to him, not here.
Wouldn’t she?
Barba set the half eaten pastel down on a napkin and poured himself a cup of the bitter liquid masquerading as coffee.
He needed caffeine. Lots and lots of caffeine.
QUESTION TIME! It’s your turn to guide the story, folks.
Barba is in unfamiliar territory - a place with lots of questions and no answers. Yet. What does he do now?
a) use his connections to find out what Reina’s meeting is about
b) find a reason to wait around so he can accidentally run into her
c) find a reason to schedule a meeting with her in hopes of casually figuring out what is going on with the two of them
d) head back to his office and bury himself in work, figuring things will play out how they’re going to play out no matter what he does
e) READER’S CHOICE: feel free to submit your own suggestions!
Votes came in for B and C equally, so here’s your recap…
“Uh huh.” Carisi smirked as he leaned forward slightly, glancing around him before speaking in a hushed tone. “Rey had a meeting upstairs to get to. I’m sure she’d be sorry she missed you.”
What?
Why would he say that?
Was he just being Carisi? Or had Reina confided in him?
What was he supposed to do with this information? Wait around for her to get out of her meeting?
And what kind of meeting would she have upstairs?
His mind was swimming with questions, but he wasn’t about to ask Carisi to help him sort them out.
Instead, he walked over to the white box sitting next to the coffee maker, flipping the lid open and grabbing the sticky, flaky pastel. As he closed the lid, he noticed the stamp on the outside, the bakery name - Puerto Viejo - and address.
He couldn’t help but note it was nowhere near her neighborhood or the 1PP.
Was this indicative of something more?
No, no. If her choice of pastry meant anything, she would have brought them to him, not here.
Wouldn’t she?
Barba set the half eaten pastel down on a napkin and poured himself a cup of the bitter liquid masquerading as coffee.
He needed caffeine. Lots and lots of caffeine.
QUESTION TIME! It’s your turn to guide the story, folks.
Barba is in unfamiliar territory - a place with lots of questions and no answers. Yet. What does he do now?
a) use his connections to find out what Reina’s meeting is about
b) find a reason to wait around so he can accidentally run into her
c) find a reason to schedule a meeting with her in hopes of casually figuring out what is going on with the two of them
d) head back to his office and bury himself in work, figuring things will play out how they’re going to play out no matter what he does
e) READER’S CHOICE: feel free to submit your own suggestions!
