When Detective Melanie Dodds entered the quiet establishment of Forlini's, the first, and only, person that caught her eye was ADA Rafael Barba. He was by himself. His perfectly tailored blazer now gone from his body as he sat perched on a stool about halfway down the bar, nursing a single glass of scotch in one hand and flicking through a thick manila folder with the other.

It made her frown, seeing him with his nose buried so deep in another case when they'd only just put their most recent one to rest. Melanie always told him he needed to slow down. That he needed to stop pushing himself so hard, but he never listened. And granted, neither did she when anyone would tell her the same anytime she got so wrapped up in a case that she forgot to eat or drink, but at least she knew when to shut off when said case finally came to a close — which was more than could be said for Barba.

Nevertheless, Melanie took her time in approaching him, opting to drink in the sight of him sitting there for as long as she possibly could before she annoyed him by snatching away his file. His hair was slightly tousled. His sleeves were rolled up, showcasing the slight tan to his muscular forearms that sat atop the bar where his stuff resided. Even the top two buttons on his shirt were undone, his silk tie absent from its usual place around his neck and no doubt shoved lazily into the pocket of his briefcase.

Melanie would never admit it aloud to anyone, her partner included, but she'd always found Barba attractive. From the way he presented himself, with that scheming smirk he displayed so frequently in court and that cocky strut of his when he walked. To his usually perfect hair and many tailored suits that Melanie just happened to be a sucker for, it all made him utterly delectable for a woman like her. And oftentimes, she never could get him out of her mind.

"Detective, are you planning on joining me?" Barba called towards her, pulling Melanie out of the trance she'd fallen into over seeing him with his hair down, so to speak. "Or do you need another few minutes to... ogle me?"

She knew that sentence was a joke on his part, but Melanie's face still reddened and given the otherwise pale complexion of her skin tone it was highly noticeable. Barba said nothing though, whether he chose to deliberately spare her the embarrassment of being caught staring or whether he had simply chalked her sudden blush up to the change in temperature from her entering the bar, Melanie had no idea. But she prayed for the latter.

With a flustered clear of her throat, Melanie stepped closer to him, "You would be so lucky as to have me ogle you."

"Lucky's not exactly the word I would use." Barba retorted quietly, glancing to his side to fire Melanie a playful smile — which earned him a gentle punch to the arm as she glared at him.

The two of them had always had a flirtatious-banter-like relationship. Ever since Melanie witnessed Barba be literally choked with his own belt in court, she'd never once let it go and he was more than happy to play along. He enjoyed seeing her smile when he did, and he wouldn't admit it aloud, but he liked her. Their interactions were the sole highlight of his boring days, and if playing along meant he got to keep them, then so be it. He'd even continue to take Carisi's relentless teasing about the two of them being like an old married couple, as just the idea of that... warmed his heart something terribly.

"Careful counsellor, I could have you arrested for slander," Melanie fired back, rounding his stool to take the one on his right without the need for an invite, as no matter the circumstances she was always welcome to sit with him.

"I'd be out in no time..." Barba replied, bringing his glass to his lips before taking a deliberately slow sip. "Insufficient evidence... They'd have no grounds to hold me."

"We'll see about that," Melanie murmured, hearing Barba chuckle faintly into his near empty glass as she motioned for the bartender's attention. "Could I please get a tequila? Neat. And a refill for my friend here."

The bartender nodded, then went to grab their drinks.

"Tequila, huh?" Barba questioned, a lick of worry rolling off his tongue as he put his folder away and swivelled on his stool to face her. But Melanie ignored him, and instead continued to stare absently at the rows of bottles that sat behind the bar. Thus, he waited, until the bartender returned with their drinks and it wasn't until Melanie had taken her first sip of tequila, did he speak again — keeping his tone as casual as could be as he knew Melanie hated getting all touchy feely, as she so often put it. "I saw you talking to your dad earlier, outside the courthouse. It seemed... intense."

Melanie scoffed and downed her drink, easily, in one swift mouthful, "Everything to do with my father is intense. Including his ideology on how I should present myself within the department, which he made very clear when he reamed me out for standing up at that press conference."

At that, Barba said nothing. He had nothing, as he already knew well about her fathers feelings on that particular subject. Chief Dodds had made them exponentially clear to him when he stormed into his office afterwards, practically seething with rage over seeing Melanie on TV, standing by Barba's side after he explicitly told her not to get herself involved.

Barba wouldn't lie, at that moment he'd actually felt a touch of fear in his chest when Dodds threw his door open so hard it almost shattered. He half expected the Chief to hit him the second he entered for dragging Melanie into things, but to his surprise all he did was grit his teeth and — not so much threaten — but strongly advise him what would happen if he dragged his daughter down with him.

Going after social services had been a risky move, Barba knew that from the get go. He knew he'd need as much help as he could get, and when Melanie offered him hers? Well, feelings or no feelings, he wasn't exactly about to say no. She was the best help he could ever ask for, and it was because of her testimony alone that the grand jury decided to indict the social workers who indirectly caused the death of little Keisha Houston.

After all, Melanie had been the one to find Keisha, locked in that puppy cage. Starving. Dehydrated, and when she told that jury... When her eyes began to glisten with tears and she painted the picture of what they did to that little girl, Barba knew he had won. He always did when Melanie was involved, and no threat to his job by her overbearing police chief father was ever going to stop him from seeking it whenever the opportunity presented itself.

"You know, I sometimes think he just does all this as a way to try and get me to leave SVU," Melanie continued, pulling Barba out of the depths of his mind and throwing him right back into reality — where his heart sank to the floor at the very notion of her leaving. "He's always wanted me to start working my way up the chain of command. I can't even count the amount of times he's stopped by my house to check in on me... Only for me to find an application for the sergeant's exam sitting on my coffee table when he left."

"That's not something you're interested in?" Barba asked curiously.

Melanie shook her head, "It's hard enough being a female detective with a rocky history and a deputy chief father, I don't need to add an extra case of nepotism to that pile by trying to move myself up the chain of command."

"That's a shame," Barba sighed, causing Melanie to shift in her seat to finally face him, just in time to see his lips twitch upwards into an openly amused smile. "I'd have quite liked to hear Carisi have to call you Sergeant."

At that thought, Melanie let out a gentle laugh — a sound so sweet that Barba almost melted where he sat. He went to open his mouth again, to ask another question in order to keep the topic of conversation going, but like every other time he'd tried to chip away at Melanie's secretive outer shell, he was interrupted. Her phone had started ringing from within the pocket of her signature leather jacket, causing them both to sigh quietly, of which Barba's went entirely unheard.

With a muttered excuse me, Melanie dropped her hand to the gap between their bodies and began to fumble around in the deep space in which her phone was buried. She pulled it out, keeping it suspended by her waist as her eyes fell to the dimly lit screen below, where her stomach sank beyond the surface of the floor the second she saw who was calling her.

"Do you need to take that?" Barba asked, unable to stop his own eyes from drifting curiously towards the name that lit up the small space between them. He wondered who Mikey was, and why, instead of answering his call like he expected, all Melanie seemed to do in that moment was reach up to the silver necklace that was always present around her neck — hanging from which was a small DNA charm that sat perfectly between her collarbones and always made him smile at the irony. "Melanie?"

A few more seconds passed during which she still didn't reply. Nor did she pick up the phone which continued to ring, with the face of an unfamiliar man still openly displayed on the screen that Melanie's thumb hovered shakily over. She drew it slowly towards the green of the answer button, where it lingered for a couple seconds longer. But then, before Barba could excuse himself to allow her some privacy, it diverted straight to red and tapped decline with much more force than necessary.

"Sorry, it uh, it's nothing," Melanie shook her head softly, flashing a partially forced and apologetic smile Barba's way as she silenced the phone, placing it back into the safety of her pocket. "All good."

"Good," Barba murmured, sceptically. He knew well enough that everything was not all good , and that something was clearly bothering her. However, he also knew Melanie. He knew when to carry on and when to let things go, and by the way her shoulders stiffened over that phone call as she ordered another drink — a double, this time — he could easily tell it was time for the latter.

Therefore he stayed quiet. Instead, he simply continued to gaze at her, his eyes lingering on the oaky tone of her own that glistened in the ambient light of the bar. He wondered how long it had been since she last closed them. Her eyelids seemed heavy. Her pale complexion and lack of make-up showed off the dark circles beneath her lashes more prominently than usual, and each time she blinked Barba doubted that she'd even be able to open them again.

"When was the last time you slept?" He asked worriedly. And it only increased when Melanie's eyes darted instantly away from him and towards her freshly poured drink, which she swirled gently before raising to her lips. "Or ate something for that matter?"

"I had a sandwich at the station earlier," Melanie replied, her brow creasing as she took a slow sip of her tequila. She could feel the harsh burn of it run down her throat and land in her stomach. Her seemingly empty stomach, as it soon gurgled faintly at the mention of food — Perhaps that sandwich hadn't been today after all. "I mean, I think I did... What day is it?"

"Melanie," Barba scolded, his lips pressing into a tight line as he frowned at her. What was it with SVU detectives and their complete inability to look after themselves? "You need to start taking better care of yourself."

Melanie scoffed into her glass, "You sound exactly like Carisi."

"Well, for once he's right," Barba agreed, watching as Melanie's eyebrows lifted slowly over the rim of her glass as she took another slow sip. He didn't usually like to agree with Carisi, but in this case he made some rather excellent points. "I'll deny that if you ever tell him but he is right, Melanie. I know you like to look out for your victims, but you need to start looking out for yourself first."

Melanie pressed the rim of her glass firmly against her lips before lowering it. Then, she sighed. Barba was right. She did need to start taking care of herself, but the only thing was... She didn't know how. She wore herself thin even during the most cut and dry cases, but you throw an incident of child abuse in there and she was as good as gone — which is exactly what Carisi had told her earlier that day when she turned down sharing his pizza.

Well, he told her that in his own way, that is. He often expressed his concerns far less politely than Barba in that he told her bluntly that she looked like she had both feet in the grave. But she rarely listened to him. He did it far too often for his own good and besides, no one else in the squad ever said anything. They probably never noticed it, and if they did, they didn't find it concerning enough to bother bringing up to her directly.

But Barba did. He always did, and he was a man known for running solely on excessive amounts of caffeine, so if he was telling her that she needed to slow down... then perhaps she really, truly needed to slow down.

"Come on, let me buy you dinner," Barba said, cocking his head in the general direction of the few empty tables that hugged the wall behind them. He then slid off his seat, hitting the wooden floor beneath with a soft thud as he grabbed his blazer that lay draped across the empty stool beside him. He folded it neatly over his arm then picked up his briefcase before turning to Melanie, holding out his hand where her hesitant eyes dropped to instantly as she began to pick at the chipped black polish that he never saw her nails without. "Don't make me subpoena you."

The hope that riddled Barba's emerald green eyes as he stared patiently into her own wrapped around Melanie's chest like a rope, making her unable to say no to him as she simply couldn't take having to see it diminish should she tell him the truth. That she wasn't hungry, and probably wouldn't be until late evening tomorrow as she never could eat during cases involving children as they always made her sick to the deepest pit of her stomach.

But no one else knew that. Not Carisi. Not Liv. And certainly not Barba. She hadn't told them yet. She didn't know if she ever would. Or if she ever could, so she certainly wasn't about to break out the confessional over something as silly as not wanting to eat tonight. There'd been plenty of other times where she'd felt forced to eat a sandwich or a bag of chips just to stave off suspicion from her co-workers, so a plate of pasta and some breadsticks wouldn't exactly be a tough challenge.

With that in mind and a half-forced smile rising on her face, Melanie reached out her hand and clasped it with Barba's. It was cold, like he'd have guessed. And not just from the rings that always littered her slender fingers, but from her very skin itself. It was like ice. He could almost feel it tremble, even beneath the warmth of his touch, which told him there may be more to what's been bothering her than she was truly letting on. But he said nothing. He'd gotten her to agree to dinner, and that was a miraculous win as it is, so he didn't want to make her close herself off by asking more questions whose answers were of no concern to him.

Therefore, all he did was return her smile, help her off her stool and lead her happily towards a small table that sat tucked away in the corner. As they reached it, Barba's hand fell reluctantly from hers. He set his briefcase aside then quickly draped his blazer over his seat before retreating a few steps back in order to pull out hers. Only, he didn't even get the chance to feel the chair beneath his fingertips before Melanie stopped him, her hand latching itself tightly onto his forearm in an attempt to keep him in place.

"Actually, do you mind if I sit there?" Melanie asked, nodding towards the seat he'd picked for himself that sat pressed up against the back wall of the establishment. "I just... I have this thing... About sitting with my back to the door."

And just like that, things in Barba's mind clicked instantly into place. It made sense, now that he thought about it — now that she'd said it. He'd never noticed it before but Melanie always did seem to favour sitting places where she could easily see each and every exit. In his office she'd always pick the couch over his desk, and when sitting at his round table with victims and whatnot, she'd always pick the seat next to the window — and if that wasn't available she'd choose to stand, with her back pressed tightly up against the wall and her eyes fixed on the door.

It was the same in interrogation. No one ever could get her to sit down when questioning suspects as both sides of the tables had doors behind them. Even her work desk faced the public entrance of the bullpen. And even though there was plenty of empty space and even the break room in the distance behind her, she still had Carisi sitting directly in front of her. Not to mention Rollins and Fin sitting just off to her right, which more than likely made her feel safe from whatever it was that had brought on this apparent fear.

"Of course, whatever makes you comfortable," Barba said softly, and with a reassuring smile. He pulled his arm back and grabbed his blazer then shuffled past her, happily taking a seat in the opposite chair as Melanie settled herself in hers. "If you don't mind me asking, is that a cop thing...? Or a you thing?"

"Little of both, I guess... I just don't like surprises," Melanie exhaled tiredly, shrugging her shoulders out of her jacket and placing it lazily over the back of her chair. She didn't elaborate any further when she turned back around. She didn't want to either, and Barba clearly picked up on that by her lack of eye contact as he quickly dropped the topic of conversation.

Instead he picked up their menus and handed one to Melanie, hearing her soft thanks as she took it from his grasp and flicked it open. They remained silent until they ordered. Barba had put a few seconds of thought into his, in that he picked something he wanted. Whereas Melanie ordered the first thing her eyes landed on as she was too tired to actually read over the menu.

"So," Barba began hesitantly, drawing Melanie's attention up and away from the long sleeves of her t-shirt that seemed to be more interesting than he was. He didn't take it to heart, though. She'd had a long week. She was tired. No doubt hungry, and deep down he knew that she washappy to be here with him. He just needed to coax it out a little first. "A detective... What's that like?"

Melanie's eyes narrowed, "You want to know what it's like... being a detective?"

Weird. Barba wasn't usually into small talk, let alone small talk about the theatrics of being a detective.

"Why not?" Barba shrugged, taking a sip of his scotch as he tried to play himself off as nothing but curious over the profession. Which granted, he was a little, but really he just wanted to know about her . And this seemed as good a place to start as any. "You always ask me what being an ADA is like, why can't I reciprocate?"

"I mean... No offence, but I usually ask that in more of a " how do you sleep at night" kinda way, not a vaguely curious about the job kinda way," Melanie confessed. She only ever asked him that when she was pissed at him.

"Yes, I'm aware of that," Barba admitted, and if he seemed offended by that statement, he didn't outwardly showcase it. "But still, humour me... Catching bad guys. Is it everything you dreamed it would be?"

"No, not really," Melanie replied, and Barba's eyes widened in surprise as he always got the impression that she loved what she did. "I always wanted to be a cop when I was a kid. Well, except when I was seven and spent the entire year wanting to be Ariel from the little mermaid."

At that thought, Barba let out a soft chuckle as he allowed his gaze to cast over the entirety of the natural beauty that was Melanie's face. He tried picturing how different she might look with bright red hair flowing around those delicate features, rather than the darkness of the jet black locks that were splayed out messily over her shoulders. But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't see it. He was just too enthralled by the perfect version of her that sat before him, that his mind didn't seem to want to allow any other variation of her to enter it.

"Once I got over that though, I always knew I'd be a cop. My brother and I, we used to steal my dad's NYPD shirts all the time and go around the house pretending to arrest people," Melanie continued, a fond smile tugging at her lips as she absently reached up for her necklace, her fingers drawing slowly over the short swirls of the DNA charm that hung there. "It drove my mom crazy, but my dad he... He always used to say that the department wouldn't know what hit it when Mikey and I joined."

"Mikey... That's your brother?" Barba asked carefully, watching as Melanie's motions of tracing her necklace came to a slow stop.

"My twin brother," Melanie corrected quietly, dropping her hand back down to the table as Barba's eyebrows raised. He never would have guessed she was a twin.

"Twins... I heard that's quite the bond," Barba said, sipping on his scotch as Melanie lightly rolled her eyes and huffed quietly to herself. "Or not... Did something happen?"

"I don't want to talk about it," Melanie snapped, in a tone harsher than she ever would have liked to have aimed in his direction. Immediately after she picked up her glass, downing the entirety of her drink in one go as Barba did nothing but roll his lips. She set her glass back down, dropping her eyes to the table and closing them, in order to purposely miss seeing the look that flashed across his face at that moment.

But it was pointless. She didn't need to be looking at him to know it was there. To know that he was hurt, as she could sense it. She could always sense it and it pained her to know that she was the sole cause of it this time. She could already feel the thick tension that seemed to be forming in the air between them and the longer Barba remained silent, the more the regret built in her stomach over bringing Mike into things. He always was a touchy topic, but she couldn't blame Barba for being curious as she was well aware that she was a closed book when it came to her personal life. He was only trying to get to know her, and honestly... that only made things feel about a hundred times worse.

"I'm sorry," Melanie whispered, opening her eyes and slowly drawing them back up to meet him. "That was... That was uncalled for."

"Hey, don't worry about it, okay. I get it. Family can be tough." Barba said assuringly, resisting the urge to reach across the table and take her hand. "But just so you know... If you ever do want to talk about it, I'm here."

A sweet smile crept across Melanie's face, "I know. And thank you... You're a good friend."

Friend. She might as well have just ripped Barba's heart right out of his chest and stomped on it. Sure, he always knew they'd never be anything more than friends. After all, they worked together. It would be highly unprofessional and morally unethical to be anything more. Not to mention the near ten-year age gap between them.

Or the fact that Melanie's father pretty much hated him already — that was all he really needed to know that the status of their relationship would never change in his favour. It was carved into stone at this point and he'd made his peace with that a while ago. But still... hearing her say the word friend out loud? When he was all but in love with her? Well, it wasn't exactly easy on his mind.

Or his heart.

"As an ADA I don't have a lot of those," Barba confessed, breaking Melanie's heart as he did. "So I try my best to keep the ones I do."

"Well, I'm not going anywhere," Melanie assured him, "No matter what you do, or how much you annoy me," — meant playfully, of course — "you're stuck with me."

"I guess I better try harder then," Barba joked.

Melanie chuckled, "Bring it on, counsellor. I've put up with Carisi for this long without killing him, so you better bring your A game."

"It's the only game I know," Barba replied a touch breathlessly, taking a sip of his scotch whilst continuing to gaze at Melanie over the rim of his glass. He watched as she glanced at some of the artwork on the wall to her left, tucking a thick curl behind her ear which showcased the three silver hoops that bordered her lobe in order of size, the largest of which had a tiny sword hanging from it.

Fascinated, his eyes continued to trail along the curve of her ear, passing a small snake stud that sat in the crook in the middle before coming to land on the thick silver bar that sat diagonally just above it. On one end was a small metal fletching and on the other a partially rounded point, creating the illusion of a miniature arrow having pierced right through the top of her ear. He'd never noticed it before — or rather, he'd never seen it. And the more he thought about it, the more he came to realise that Melanie had almost always worn her hair down on the days he had seen her as he'd liked to think he'd have remembered the pin board that was once her ear.

The two of them really couldn't be more different if they tried, yet Melanie still seemed to have her hooks dug deep into him. It didn't matter to him that they were nothing alike, both in personality and in style, Barba still liked her. He always had ever since the day he first saw the real Melanie. The one who he'd wondered had ever really existed as in all the time he'd known her, he never once thought she had a soul that wasn't as dark as the hair on her head.

Most days it seemed like she only had two consistent moods — gruff and cold. But then one day, during the case of Avery Jordan, when Melanie had personally driven Avery to the airport in order for her to flee the country so she didn't have to undergo the ridiculous visitation rights with her rapist, Barba had finally gotten a true peak behind the curtain that was Melanie Dodds.

Before, he'd found her annoyingly stubborn and bad-tempered. He'd seen her as nothing more than a detective who thought she was untouchable given who her father was, but when he found out that she'd risked her own career for a woman she barely knew? That's when things changed in his mind and ever since then, he'd been completely and utterly hooked on her.

Due to that, when dinner arrived, Barba kept the conversation flowing. He asked her basic things, like what she liked to do in her spare time, to which she replied with something he never would have seen coming — that she played online video games with Fin any chance they could get. From first person shooter games to calming farming games, they played the lot and to be honest Barba wasn't sure who he was more shocked over hearing that about.

After that he kept going. He asked her about her favourite movie — Jaws. He asked if she had any favourite places she liked to go in the city and he was rather surprised to find out she had such a deep love for the aquarium. That she'd sit there for hours simply watching the sea life swimming carefree around her, and not finding it at all scary when the sharks would loom hauntingly over her — which he guessed wasn't actually that surprising given his newfound knowledge of her favourite movie.

He then went on to more... personal questions, you could say, in that he finally asked what it was really like being partnered with Carisi — which Melanie had chuckled at given the plainly obvious humour that had unintentionally come out alongside that question. She knew well that her partner irritated him at times with his far-out theories and refresher courses on the law — Barba's words, not hers — but despite that, Barba had seemed genuinely interested, and so she gave him nothing but a truthful answer.

That Carisi was a great partner.

And yes, sometimes he could ramble on about how society was growing closer to inevitably collapsing, and when it came to chasing perps it was often left up to her as Carisi was too tall and too skinny that any time one of them turned a sharp corner, he'd almost lose his balance and go flying into any nearby objects (which Barba found greatly amusing when she told him and would never be letting go), but he was still the best partner she'd ever had.

Sure, Amaro had been great and she missed him terribly but the two of them clashed way more often than they would have liked. They were too similar, and Amaro was too angry, but with Carisi it was like they flowed together perfectly and she couldn't ask for a more trustworthy partner — all of which she happily told Barba when he asked for more details, part of him almost wishing he hadn't as he wouldn't deny... He felt a little jealous of Carisi. And he'd be denying that if he somehow ever found out.

"Law lessons aside, Sonny is great. He puts up with me and my bullshit," Melanie carried on, using her fork to break off a small piece of their remaining chocolate cake. They'd gotten a slice to share after dinner, yet she hadn't seemed to notice that Barba's cutlery was still clean. "He knows how I like my coffee. My preferred stakeout snacks and music... That's all I can ask for, really."

"If you ask me, the guy deserves a medal," Barba mumbled jokingly, ignoring the pit in his stomach as he earned himself a tight glare from Melanie, who then reached out and gently nudged his leg with her foot in retaliation before finishing off the last of the chocolate cake.

By the time they left Forlini's and stepped out into the cool summer's evening, Melanie was feeling better than she had done in weeks. And it was all thanks to Barba. He'd gone out of his way to make her feel comfortable enough to let her guard down long enough to enjoy a nice dinner. With some rather pleasant company, as she wouldn't lie, despite his quirks and their witty banter, she'd always thought Barba was all business all the time.

But tonight she'd been proven wrong.

Tonight he'd been different. He hadn't been Barba, the reputable ADA who always seemed like he had his life together. No, tonight he'd been Rafael, the man who'd grown up as a scrawny kid in the Bronx and knew firsthand just how hard life could truly get.

"You know, I, uh..." Melanie began, taking a deep breath of that warm summer's air that engulfed her. "I really needed that. It's been such a crazy few weeks and I guess I just..."

"Forgot that you're human too?" Barba finished for her, and Melanie nodded sheepishly. He didn't give anything in response to that other than a gentle smile, as he didn't think the subject called for much more speculation. Instead, he placed his hand on her forearm and gave it a light, comforting squeeze before cocking his head to the side, "Come on, let me walk you home."

"You've done enough for one night," Melanie protested, "You don't need to do anything else."

"I know I don't need to," Barba replied, reluctantly dropping his hand and allowing it to hang loosely by his side as it twitched to reach back out and lace itself with hers. "But I want to. And besides, what kind of man would I be if I let a pretty, slightly intoxicated woman like you walk home alone through this neighbourhood?"

"I'm the one with the badge and gun here, counsellor," Melanie said humorously, patting her hip and ignoring the way her stomach flipped over hearing him call her pretty. "And last I checked, crime rates in this neighbourhood are at an all time low."

"Irrelevant," Barba replied, briefly waving his hand in front of him as though brushing that off. "My mother would be disgraced to find out I let you walk home alone, regardless of your profession, so let's go."

Holding out his arm, Barba's eyes continuously flicked from the grey fabric that covered it to the indecipherable look that was plastered over Melanie's face. He always hated the fact that he never could tell what she was thinking most of the time. It made it nearly impossible for him to ever know whether or not there was some part of her that might feel the same way about him as he did about her. Truthfully, it grated on him, even now, but when she eventually smiled and gave in, that feeling quickly faded away. Replaced with nothing but pure and utter warmth in his chest when she linked her arm with his and happily allowed him to begin walking her down the block.

They remained silent for the most part, simply choosing to enjoy each other's quiet company rather than feel the need to fill it with mindless small talk. It wasn't an overly long journey to Melanie's place anyway, and soon enough Barba felt the disappointing feeling of her arm slip from around his as they came to the bottom step of her townhouse — which he was rather surprised to find out she lived in as she'd always struck him as a loft apartment kind of girl.

"Well, this is me," Melanie exhaled, nodding lazily to her house as she spun to face Barba properly, where a sudden awkwardness seemed to sweep over the entirety of her being. She couldn't help but feel like she was at the end of a date, where she never knew whether to invite the guy inside or leave him stewing on the sidewalk wondering whether or not he'd ever see her again. "Thanks for getting me here safely."

Smiling at the slight humour in her tone, Barba replied, "You're welcome."

"So, I guess I'll probably see you tomorrow," Melanie said rather hopefully, backing up one step towards her house and praying she didn't trip and end up embarrassing herself.

"It's likely," Barba nodded briefly, "I have some paperwork to go over with Liv, so I'm sure I'll see you in the squad room."

At that Melanie gave him a single, smiling nod of her own before wishing him a soft and quiet goodnight. One that almost made his heart weep when he then had to see her turn fully on her heels and ascend the steps to her front door. Wanting to make sure she got inside safely, he lingered, watching as she fumbled for her keys and began to unlock the strangely numerous locks she had on her door.

When it finally creaked open he made his move to leave, the shiny silver rims of the black motorbike parked adjacent from Melanie's house catching his eye as he did. He pondered the idea of it being hers. It matched her personality to a tee and he could almost imagine her cruising smoothly down the streets at night, the wind blowing through her luscious locks as if he knew her, she wouldn't haven't ruined her look with a helmet.

That's about all had time to think about before he suddenly heard the soft pats of Melanie's feet mixed with the gentle jingle of the chain that hung from her jeans coming back down the cement steps of her brownstone. He spun on his heels instantly, finding that Melanie was already close enough to him that he could reach out and touch her. His mouth opened, words sitting on the tip of his tongue only he didn't get a chance to free them before she leaned in, placing a soft, heartwarming kiss to his cheek.

Almost instantly, Barba's stomach flipped inside him at the sudden feeling of her lips on his skin. They were soft to the touch. A surprisingly higher temperature than the rest of her and when she parted them a sharp, shuddering shiver rippled up his spine at her breath puffing out across his face as she whispered,

"Thank you."

The words didn't even have time to settle in the air before she was gone from in front of him again, leaving Barba to do nothing but stand breathlessly on the sidewalk and watch as the front door of the brownstone finally swung shut... with Melanie securely behind it.