#they’ve been a power couple since the first season of sugar bear aired!

[krashing-starz]

my ideal job is a radio show from like 2-5 am in which i play music and discuss celebrity drama like a normal morning radio show BUT all the songs are covers of various top 40s by local bands and all the celebrity drama is made up and it’s heavily implied that im from an alternative universe but we never explain how or why this is

[thebarsondaily]

Rediscovering Christmas

for @r-o-s-e-h-i-p-s

Title: Rediscovering Christmas Author: theofoof Rating: T Summary:  Sequel to ‘The Rediscovered Country’. How do Rafael, Olivia and Noah celebrate their first Christmas as a family? A/N: I don’t think you need to read ‘The Rediscovered Country’ to enjoy this but I’d love it if you did.

Chapter 1: Thursday (12 days to Christmas…)

When Rafael Barba was growing up, his grandmother used to take him to the ice-skating rink in Bryant Park every Christmas. They’d bundle up and get the subway to Times Square, before making the short walk to the park, enjoying the sights and sounds of the season along the way. Once a young Rafael had exhausted himself skating, they would get hot chocolate and cookies from one of the two vendors who were set up next to the rink, to replenish his energy.

Over the years, the number of vendors had increased, and it was now a full-blown Christmas market, with over a hundred stalls selling one-of-a-kind gifts and crafts. The selection of food and drink wasn’t bad either. From German sausages and gingerbread to sugared almonds and spiced wine, it was a wonderland of festive treats. The sounds, smells and sheer volume of people could be overwhelming though, with families, work groups, tourists and couples getting into the Christmas spirit.

The Bryant Park Christmas market had been a tradition he’d shared with his abuelita from almost as soon as he could walk until a few years before her death when she’d declared she just couldn’t cope with the walking or the crowds anymore. He hadn’t been since then; it was hard to get into the Christmas spirit when you were alone. But he wasn’t alone anymore. Now he had a family. And he planned on sharing the magic of the Christmas market with his girlfriend and her – no, their – son.

It had been a hard year with lots of trials, but luckily, they’d come out the other side stronger, closer than before. After being tried for mercifully ending the life of terminally ill baby, Drew Householder, Rafael had resigned from the DA’s office and left New York to hide out in Miami and put his life back together. He’d almost lost Olivia in the process – not wanting to bring her down with him – but, thankfully, she’d fought for him; for them. They’d moved forward with their relationship, despite the physical distance between them, until he’d finally returned to the city for Noah’s birthday back in July.

He’d moved in with them immediately, much to the delight of Noah – who had been calling Rafael ‘Dad’ since visiting him on the boat over Father’s Day – but it had soon become clear that the two-bedroom apartment wasn’t going to be a feasible, long-term option for them. So, they’d bought a three-bedroom brownstone, with a small yard, just to the north of Manhattan. Luckily, the previous owners were moving into an empty house, so the buying process had been quick, and they’d been able to get moved in and settled before Christmas, although Thanksgiving had come and gone in a blur of bubble wrap and packing boxes, with a late dinner at Lucia’s. The stress was worth it though, to be able to spend their first Christmas together as a family in their new home.

Rafael climbed the stairs to their bedroom and knocked lightly on the door to the en-suite.

“You’ve not fallen asleep in there have you?” he asked through the door.

There was a light chuckle from the other side. “Not quite, no.”

He opened the door a crack and peered around. She was reclined in the bath, body buried beneath a blanket of bubbles, only her head visible. “Mind if I join you?”

“Not at all, but you’re not getting in here. I’ve worked too many hours this week to even think about sharing.”

It was his turn to laugh as he pushed the door open fully. “Not even when I’m bearing gifts?”

She opened her eyes and rolled her head to the side to look at him. He was leaning nonchalantly against the door frame, dressed in jeans and an open-necked black shirt, holding a glass of scotch for him and a glass of Cabernet for her.

She lifted an arm out of the bubbles. “Are my chances of getting that wine dependent on my answer?”

“I’m not that cruel.” He pushed off the door frame and stepped fully into the bathroom. As he approached the bath and handed her the glass of wine, he noticed – now she was free of make-up – just how much of a toll the last week had taken on her and began to reconsider their plans for the next evening.

Christmas was always a busy time for SVU. The number of parties and the amount of alcohol consumed made December in Manhattan a hotbed of sexual assault. And this year was no exception. She’d worked almost sixty hours this week and that, combined with parenting a boisterous six-year-old who was becoming increasingly excited about Christmas, meant she was almost dead on her feet.

“Look, if you want to give tomorrow night a miss, I don’t mind.” It was a little white lie, he’d been looking forward to taking Liv and Noah to the Christmas Markets and sharing with them some of the joy he’d shared with his Abuelita. However, he cared about Olivia’s wellbeing more.

“I’ll be okay,” she replied, taking a sip of her wine. “I know how important it is to you.”

Rafael perched on the edge of the bath, near Olivia’s head. His hand went to her hair, his fingers carding through her chestnut locks.

“I know,” he told her, his voice low, “but you’ve had a tough week and I care more about you than some Christmas tradition. We’ve got our whole lives to make Christmas memories together.” His fingers brushed the skin at the base of her neck and she let out a small, groan of approval, closing her eyes to continue enjoying his ministrations. “Or,” he continued, “I could take Noah and you could have a quiet night to yourself.”

“As tempting as that is… no. This is our first Christmas together, I want to go with you and Noah.”

“Okay,” Rafael agreed, returning his hand to her head and dragging his nails gently across her scalp. He recognised that tone. She was determined in her plan and nothing would be able to dissuade her. Which, if he was honest, warmed his heart. He’d just have to do his best to make the evening as fun, easy and stress-free as possible for her. 

Chapter 2: Friday (11 days to Christmas…)

As Rafael walked through the Christmas Market, hand in hand with Olivia and Noah, he sent up a silent prayer of thanksgiving, grateful to God or fate or whatever higher power had brought them together again after he’d almost ruined everything. They’d explored around half the stalls already, making a few purchases. As they rounded the corner, Noah, who was holding tightly to both adults’ hands to ensure he didn’t get lost in the crowd, gasped. He pulled out of Rafael’s grip and pointed at the large carousel that stood at near the exit.

“Can we ride the carousel?” he asked when he had the full attention of both his parents.

“Providing the line isn’t too long,” Olivia said. “It’s been a long week.” She glanced up at Barba, smiling. “Right, Dad?” Even six months later, she couldn’t help but smile when she referred to Rafael as Noah’s father.

“Right,” he agreed. “Come on then, mijo, let’s go scope out the length of the line.” He tugged lightly on the boy’s hand and he followed obediently, his hand slipping out of his mother’s grip.

Olivia caught them up quickly and, trusting Rafael to keep a tight hold on their son, fell into step next to him, hooking her arm through his. She curled her body in closer to his as they walked, drawing on his warmth to fend off the frosty chill in the air.

They ambled through the crowds, stopping to look at several stalls, Olivia pointing out things that she thought Amanda or Lucia would like. They bought Noah a light up windmill from a street vendor to help pass the time before they arrived at the carousel, and the boy waved it excitedly as they made their way through the market. As they progressed along the row of wooden huts, the music that had been drifting through the crowds began to increase in volume. Rafael wrinkled his nose.

“Well, that’s an obnoxious noise,” he commented, leaning in so he was close enough to be heard over the music.

Olivia nodded in agreement. “I wouldn’t mind if they were at least playing Christmas songs.”

“You mean you’ve not had enough of ‘Fairy-tale of New York’?”

She rolled her eyes in response. Carisi loved Christmas and had been playing that blasted song at least twice a day since the beginning of November. As far as her detective was concerned, once Hallowe’en was over, it was time for Christmas.

“It was Christmas Eve, babe,” Rafael crooned in her ear.

“Don’t. Please don’t,” she begged. “If I never hear that song again it will be too soon.”

Rafael merely smirked and shrugged innocently. He reached over and tucked an errant strand of hair behind her ear, noticing for the first time that her ears looked quite red.

“You need a hat.”

Olivia looked at him, brow furrowed. “I have tons of hats.”

“Yet here you are, out in the cold, without one. Your ears are cold,” Rafael explained. “They’ve gone all red.”

Her hands instinctively touched her ears and, not for the first time, she cursed herself for leaving her hat at the precinct in her rush to meet Rafael and Noah. “They are a little numb.”

“Right then, that settles it.” He grabbed hers and Noah’s hands and tugged gently, leading them back in the direction they’d just come.

“But Daaaaaaad!” whined Noah. “The carousel’s that way.” He pointed towards the colourful, spinning ride.

“I know, mijo, but your mom needs a hat before her ears fall off.”

Noah giggled and went willingly with his parents. They stopped at a stall selling all sorts of woollen accessories; hats, scarves, gloves, snoods. Rafael pointed at a selection of hats. “What about those?”

Olivia followed his gaze and turned back to him, eyebrow raised as she realised what he was suggesting. “Antlers? Really?”

“Well something festive, at least.” Rafael picked it up and handed it to her. “You’ll make Carisi’s day if you turn up in that tomorrow.”

She shook her head. “Yes, because I live to make Carisi happy,” she drawled.

“Go on Momma. Try it on,” urged Noah.

“Yeah, go on Liv.”

Olivia shook her head at the two of them teaming up against her. They’d always done it, but the frequency had increased since Rafael had moved in with them. “Okay, okay. I’ll try it on.”

At Noah – and Rafael’s – behest, she tried on a number of different ones; the antlers, a snowman, a Christmas cake, and Mrs Claus, complete with fake plaits, before deciding enough was enough. Plucking an elf hat from the rack, she plonked it on Noah’s head.

“Oh, that is just too cute!” Olivia cooed. “We should buy that for you to wear to the Christmas party.”

“I wanna see!” Rafael lifted the boy, so he could look in the mirror. “Yes! Can we?” he asked, laughing at his reflection. “Please?” When Olivia nodded, the boy turned to Rafael. “Which one are you going to choose, Dad?”

Rafael reached out and fiddled with the long, white plaits of the Mrs Claus hat that Olivia still wore. “If you buy this for the party, it’ll make my decision easier.”

“Oh, how’s that?”

“Well, if Noah’s an elf and you’re Mrs Claus,” he plucked a hat from behind her and pulled it onto his own head, “then that means I must be Santa.”

Olivia’s breath hitched. Was he implying that they should get married? Yes, they were living together, and co-parenting Noah but they hadn’t talked about marriage. But now she thought about it, she realised she wouldn’t be opposed to the idea. Quite the opposite actually.

Rafael cursed inwardly for not taking the time to think about his words before speaking them. He thought about the small, black, velvet box that was hidden in the back corner of his underwear drawer and tried to think of a way to protect the surprise he had planned for Christmas day.

He leaned in so Noah wouldn’t hear. “I mean, it’s probably my turn to play the role at the party, right? Fin, Carisi, Nick – hell, even Dodds – have all done it. Probably about time for me to don the red suit, no?”

“Well, yes except that I’ve already arranged for Cragen to play Santa, as well you know.” They’d had an entire conversation about it the previous week. She narrowed her eyes at him, wondering if he was being entirely honest.

“Oh, yeah, that’s right,” Rafael said. “Oh well, maybe next year.” He cleared his throat. “We should pay.”

Olivia rummaged in her purse, to hide the momentary disappointment that Rafael really was only talking about playing Santa for the squad’s children. The three hats were purchased, wrapped and bagged before Rafael remembered the reason they’d come to this stall in the first place.

“You still need a hat to wear tonight. Do you see anything you like?”

“I have hats at home,” she protested. “I wore one to work today. I was just foolish not to remember to bring it with me.” But she was already reaching up to where the fluffy red one hung. She tried it on.

“Suits you,” Rafael said.

Olivia looked critically in the mirror. “It is nice and warm,” she said decisively. She reached for her purse again, but Rafael stilled her hand. She looked up to see him shaking his head.

“My treat.”

***

Noah’s gazed at the brightly lit carousel as they approached, spellbound by the intricate, colourful horses. He glanced to the entrance and then back to his parents, trying to gauge whether the line would be short enough for him to be able to ride. When he couldn’t tell from their faces, he put on his best puppy-dog expression.

“Go on then,” Olivia told him with a smile, sipping the coffee that Rafael had just bought her. “But straight home afterwards. Okay, mister?”

Noah nodded eagerly. “Okay, Momma.”

He took her hand and led her towards the line but stopped when he realised Rafael wasn’t following. Turning back, he found him stood in the middle of the path, a far-off look in his eye, as he gazed over at the families enjoying the ice rink.

“Come on, Dad!” he called.

Noah’s voice pulled Rafael from his reverie. Shaking his head lightly, he walked over to join his family.

“Memories?” Olivia asked, stroking his arm.

Even after six years, he marvelled at how well she could read him. He had been thinking about his grandmother, and the many Christmas evenings they’d spent here. “Yeah, but good ones.” He reached for her hand as they followed Noah into the line for tickets. “Now it’s time to make some more.”

Chapter 3: Saturday (10 days to Christmas…)

“No.”

“But Daaaad!”

“No,” Rafael repeated.

“Please! You did say I could pick.”

“I know. Pick another one.”

“But I want this one. It’s perfect.”

Rafael sighed. When he’d said Noah could pick out the Christmas tree – as part of the negotiation to get the boy to get ready that morning – he hadn’t foreseen it being a problem. He was quickly beginning to realise how wrong he had been. “Noah, it’s too big. We’ll never get it through the door.”

“But…”

Olivia knelt down in front of her son. “Your Dad’s right, Noah. There won’t be enough room – we’d have to chop the top off to make it fit. It wouldn’t be so perfect then, would it?”

Noah considered his mother’s words. “No,” he pouted.

“I think I saw some smaller trees over by the reindeer pen,” Olivia told him. “How about we look over that way?”

“Yeah!” Noah agreed exuberantly, his disappointment quickly forgotten at the thought of seeing the reindeer. He skipped off ahead, Olivia calling after him not to go too far.

They wandered through the rows of trees, following Noah. Olivia was surprised by the size and quality of the selection. She’d assumed, given that it was only ten days before the big day, that all the good ones would have gone. Apparently not. Every so often, a tree would catch Rafael’s eye and he would stop, strip off a glove, and run his fingers over its branches, checking its freshness. Olivia inhaled deeply, enjoying the sharpness of the cold air and the fragrance of the pine trees. She wasn’t normally a fan of winter weather, but somehow, it was different today. Refreshing.

“Thanks for helping me out back there,” he said. “I thought for a moment we were actually going to have to take that tree home.”

“I did try to warn you,” she reminded him. “What you need to remember about children is, they don’t yet realise that bigger doesn’t always mean better.”

“Is that so?” he asked, eyebrow raised.

Seeing the twinkle in his eye, Olivia realised the double meaning her words could have. She stopped walking and turned to him. “Well, of course, size is important, but it isn’t the only thing that matters,” she replied, leaning in to whisper in his ear, trailing a hand down the centre of his chest. “Knowing how to use it counts for a lot too.”

Rafael wrapped his arms around her and pulled her to him. “Oh?”

“Don’t worry Rafa, you’ve got nothing to worry about… in either department.”

He leaned in to kiss her when Noah’s voice echoed up the path. “Momma! Dad! I’ve found it!”

The couple sprang apart to see him running back towards them, beckoning them to him. “I’ve found the tree!”

They quickly caught him up, and he led them to the second tree he’d chosen. Olivia had to admit it was a beautiful tree. Pulling off her glove, she reached out to touch the needles and was surprised by the softness of them.

Olivia had always had a fake tree, ever since she’d had her first one aged twelve. Her mother had never really bothered with Christmas but when the elderly couple next door had been upgrading their old, plastic three-foot tree, they had offered it to Olivia. She kept it in her room and, although it was sparsely decorated at first, it brought a little bit of joy at a time of the year when her mother sought more solace than usual in the bottom of a bottle.

Never having experienced the magic of a real tree, she’d never understood the appeal, preferring to avoid the mess of pine needles she assumed would end up on her living room floor. But when they’d moved, Rafael had declared they wouldn’t need her fake tree anymore. It was real ones all the way from now on.

“Good choice, mijo,” Rafael told him, after finishing his inspection of the tree. “What do you think, Liv?”

Olivia nodded. “I think that’s the one”

***

Back at home, Olivia plunged her arms between the fragrant boughs, holding the tree steady while Rafael secured it into the stand. They had spent the latter part of the morning feeding the reindeer, taking Noah to visit Santa and shopping for new lights and decorations. Standing in the store, they’d had a rather animated debated the merits of coloured tree lights versus white ones.

That battle had been won by Olivia, claiming the coloured ones were more exciting for Noah. Rafael had conceded with a small nod and dropped a couple of boxes into the cart. They let Noah choose a new ornament for the tree; an ice-skating reindeer, before grabbing lunch and heading home.

“Is it straight?” Rafael called from where he was sprawled on the floor, the upper half of his body buried beneath the tree.

“Yeah,” Noah called, his Christmas word search discarded, as he watched his parents with interest.

Rafael began to tighten the stand around the trunk and, once the tree was secure, Olivia gingerly lowered herself from her stool to the floor. She stepped back to eye the tree critically.

“Yup, you’re good to go,” she told Rafael, so he could tighten the holding screws fully.

He emerged from under the tree and appraised it himself. Nodding, he turned to find Noah edging towards the boxes of decorations stacked in the corner. He couldn’t resist teasing him. “Right, that was hard work. Time for a coffee break.”

“Nooooo!” came Noah’s frustrated cry.

“What?” Rafael asked innocently, trying his best not to laugh. At Noah’s pout, he relented and opened the first box allowing him to dive in.

***

An hour later, the three of them were covered in tinsel and glitter. The tree was nearly finished; Rafael had strung the lights and Olivia and Noah had followed with the tinsel and beads before they all contributed to placing the other decorations. There were baubles, bells, ornaments that had been collected over the years, as well as some home-made creations from Noah.

Now the only things left to add to the tree were Noah’s newly purchased reindeer and the star that would sit atop it. Olivia retrieved Noah’s reindeer, and, after a few moments of consideration, he hung it carefully on the tree about half way up. With that done, they stood back and admired their work.

“It’s perfect,” Olivia whispered.

Rafael slipped his arm around her and nodded his approval. “Just needs the star on it now.” He turned to Noah. “You ready, mijo?”

Noah nodded emphatically and reached for the star that was lay on the coffee table.

“Okay,” said Rafael, kneeling down. “Climb up on my shoulders.” Noah climbed on, slipping a leg either side of his father’s neck. “Right, prepare for take-off. We’re going up, up, up in the sky.” Noah clung on, squealing in delight as Rafael stood, raising him into the air.

“You have to put it right at the top,” Olivia reminded him. “Can you reach?”

“Yes.” Noah carefully placed the star on the top bough; Olivia and Rafael watching on, caught up in the excitement of a child’s simple pleasure.

***

Late that evening, with Noah tucked up in bed, Olivia and Rafael were relaxing on the couch, drinks in hand. The room was lit only by the twinkling Christmas tree that stood in the corner. A bit of quiet time was just what was needed after such a hectic day. Rafael’s arm was stretched along the back of the couch, his fingers playing gently with the ends of her hair. He moved his hands to her neck, kneading the tight muscles there. Olivia gave a small sound of appreciation at his actions.

“That good?”

“Mmm.”

He shifted their positions slightly, so he could reach both her shoulders but suddenly the room was plunged into darkness, the lights on the tree going out with a slight fizz and bang.

Rafael cursed under his breath and fumbled to switch on the nearest lamp. Once light had been restored to the living room, he stood to inspect the tree. He located the fuse bulbs in each set of lights, pulled them out and examined them closely. “Hmm, they’re all fine,” he remarked as he reinserted them and continued to search for the problem.

He crawled under the tree and unplugged each plug from the three-outlet extension cord, testing them by plugging them into the wall socket, one by one. Each set worked, meaning the problem was in the plug of the extension cord. Leaving Olivia on the sofa with her wine, he popped to their utility room returning a few moments later with a screwdriver and new fuse and, a couple of minutes later, the lights were back in full working order.

Rafael emerged, his hair ruffled and his face a little sweaty from the exertion of fixing the lights.

Olivia placed her wine on the table, and rose slowly from the sofa, eyeing Rafael’s dishevelled form with a hungry look.

“Looks like Santa came early this year. And he left exactly what I wanted under the tree.”

Rafael recognised her tone, and a satisfied smirk spread across his face. “I’ve never been someone’s Christmas wish before,” he whispered, standing and approaching her.

“That’s not quite true. You were mine last year, you just didn’t know it,” she replied with a blush. She lifted her hand to brush some errant pine needles from his hair, and he leaned in, his lips moving gently over hers.

The kiss deepened quickly. Hunger traced the movements of their mouths as they opened onto one another, tongues dancing and exploring.

Rafael’s mouth eagerly explored Olivia; her lips, cheeks, jawline and, with a gentle nibble of her earlobe, he felt her shudder. He trailed kisses down her neck, murmuring her name over and over and when he reached the collar of her jumper, he pulls it aside trying to reach even more of her skin.

His hands grazed over the soft cashmere, travelling lower until he reached the hem at the bottom. He edged a hand underneath, higher and higher until he captured a breast through her lace bra, gently kneading her soft flesh.

Olivia’s hands weren’t idle either. One of her hands pushed up the back of his T-shirt and she felt the scrape of his skin underneath her nails as she stroked them up and down his spine. As she raked them over his denim-clad buttocks, he grabbed her hip and pulled her to him. They were now touching from chest to thighs and Olivia could feel the effect that she was having on Rafael. Stepping back, she allowed herself a moment to catch her breath before taking his hand and whispering in a sultry voice,

“Maybe we should take this upstairs and you can unwrap one of your presents early.”

Chapter 4: Sunday (9 days to go…)

“This Christmas is turning out to be the happiest I’ve had in years,” Lucia remarked to Olivia as they stood in the elder woman’s kitchen, washing their brunch dishes. Since their reconciliation, Rafael and his mother met for brunch every Sunday, Olivia and Noah joining them whenever possible. Most weeks, they went to their favourite diner, but occasionally, Lucia would offer to host.

As they continued their chores, Lucia’s gaze was drawn to her son and grandson, who were engaged in some pitching practice in her back garden.

“When Rafael left back in February… after the way I treated him… I thought…” Lucia trailed off, stilling her scrubbing as emotion threatening to overwhelm her.

Olivia reached out and placed a hand on her shoulder. “You know he’s forgiven you.” It had been a hard road, but the two of them had made good progress in the months since Rafael’s return.

Lucia nodded, drying her hands on a towel. “Because of you. I don’t know if he’d ever have come home if it wasn’t for you.” She managed a watery smile. “You’ve given him a family, Olivia. You’ve given me a family. Thank you.”

Olivia shook her head. “No need to thank me.”

“There’s every need,” Lucia insisted, grasping Olivia’s upper arms gently. “His eyes light up with a happiness I haven’t seen in a long time. You saved him.”

She smiled softly. “He saved me too. He gave my son a father and…” She paused, biting her lips. “I never thought I’d find someone to spend my life with,” she admitted. “Before Rafa, I didn’t have the best track record with relationships. And then, after Noah came into my life…” She shrugged. “Well, who wants to date a single mom pushing fifty?”

“One as beautiful as you, mija? I’m surprised men weren’t breaking the door down.”

Olivia scoffed. “I can always rely on you to boost my self-esteem.”

Lucia waved her hand dismissively. “Nonsense! But I guess it’s good for Rafi that all the other men in New York are blind and stupid. For you too. I can see the joy on your face, too. You and Rafi share a love that’s everlasting.” She paused. “You complete each other.”

“We do,” nodded Olivia, her eyes becoming misty with unshed tears.

“Abuelita? Are the cookies ready to ice yet?!” Noah’s voice announced his arrival before he burst through the door of the kitchen, followed by Rafael. Once she’d found out Noah had claimed Rafael as his father, she’d insisted he call her ‘Abuelita.’

Lucia tentatively touched the Christmas-shaped cookies that were cooling on the counter with the back of her hand. “Almost, nieto. Almost.” She looked him up and down, smiling to himself at his muddy shoes and grass-stained clothes. “Why don’t you go and wash up. I’m sure that, by the time you’re clean they’ll be cool enough.”

Noah moved to exit the kitchen, but Olivia stepped forward to block his path. “Not so fast, mister.” She looked pointedly at his mud-soaked sneakers, thankful they’d brought a change of clothes for him.

Noah toed off the offending footwear by the back door, Rafael following suit.

“Go on up, mijo,” he told him. “Your bag is in your room.”

Technically it was Lucia’s spare room, but Noah had claimed it and Rafael swore he saw his mother furtively hiding away colour charts and paint swatches – he had a feeling she was planning on redecorating for the boy.

As Noah scampered off, his stocking feet sliding comically on the wooden floor of the kitchen, and Rafael padded over to the sink and washed his hands, Lucia began to gather the supplies for icing the cookies. She’d bought small tubes of icing to help Noah with the finer decoration, but she still believed in making the bulk of the icing herself.

By the time the boy returned, Lucia had set up an icing station at the kitchen table. Five large bowls of differently coloured icing – a rainbow array of melt-in-the-mouth deliciousness that called to the six-year-old, perhaps even more than the cookies themselves – as well as sprinkles and sweets.

Noah joined his parents and Lucia at the table and they began to frost the cookies. Rafael pulled up his Christmas playlist on his phone and soon the four of them were humming or singing along. Rafael refused to skip Fairytale of New York, but Lucia overruled him – reminding him of the bad language and little ears that were present. They’d iced almost half of the treats when Lucia’s phone rang. Rafael watched through narrow eyes his mother as she excused herself to take the call. Was she blushing? He turned to Olivia, eyebrow raised in question, but she just shrugged. Whatever was or wasn’t going on in Lucia’s life was none of their business.

Rafael shook his head at her apparent obliviousness and his eyes landed on Olivia’s partially decorated cookie.

“What exactly is that supposed to be?” he asked with a smirk.

She flashed him an indignant look. “A Christmas tree,” she responded, matter-of-fact.

Rafael rolled his eyes playfully. “I know that, but what’s that all over it?” he teased.

She pursed her lips in amusement. “Decorations,” she replied.

His eyebrows raised in surprise. “I don’t know who taught you to decorate a tree, but those are not like any decorations I’ve seen,” he said around a smile that crinkled his eyes and sent a spark through Olivia. “Here, I’ll show you how to trim a tree,” he began, but suddenly the icing tube squirted too much icing with the resulting red blob marring Olivia’s creation. Rafael leaned back over to his own seat in an attempt to hide his amusement.

Noah eyed his mom, waiting to see her reaction with bated breath. Was she going to shout at his dad for ruining her cookie?

“I can’t believe you just did that!” Olivia feigned outrage before picking up the green icing tube and squirted her own blob onto the star Rafael had been fastidiously decorating. Noah joined the two as they erupted into laughter that only quietened when Lucia returned to the kitchen.

“What is going on in here?” she asked before glancing at their over-iced cookies. “And what happened to those cookies?”

“Tube malfunctions. Don’t worry, we’ll fix them,” Rafael replied, holding back his laughter. “And if not, well, they’ll taste just as good.”

The two of them managed to behave themselves for the rest of the cookie decorating session and did succeed in making the two ruined cookies look presentable again. Lucia packed up several batches of cookies – one for home, one for Noah to take to school for his teachers, and two others for Olivia and Rafael to take to their respective workplaces – and the three of them made their way home.

As the car pulled away from the sidewalk, Rafael glanced at Olivia. “Mami was very furtive about that phone call, no?”

Olivia shrugged. “She’s a grown woman, Rafa. She’s allowed a private life. I hardly think she’s running a drug cartel.”

“Hmm.” Rafael narrowed his eyes as he merged into the traffic. Olivia’s words did little to reassure him. Something was going on with Lucia Barba and he wouldn’t rest until he knew what it was.

Chapter 5: Monday (8 days to go…)

“What are you doing?”

The lights were off, but the glow from the Christmas tree illuminated the living room and kitchen. The lights sparkled happily and chased away the shadows of the room. Olivia had been on her way to the kitchen for a drink when she spied his legs sticking out from beneath the tree. Her brows drew together, confused and a little mystified. Why was he laying on the floor at almost ten o’clock at night?

Rafael rolled his head to one side. He gazed out from beneath the edge of the tree’s bottom branches, a smile slowly curving his face.

“Lights,” he shrugged, as though the answer was obvious, before turning his gaze back to the sparkling glow overhead. His feet stretched, and he crossed his legs at the ankles, resting his hands atop his stomach. The floor was smooth, hard and cool beneath him. Above, the shifting twinkle of the lights was reflected in the ornaments that decorated the tree.

“Why?” Olivia walked over, stopping nearby and gazing down. “You’re lying on the floor. You know that, right?”

“Didn’t you ever do this?” He looked out at Olivia again. “When you were a kid? Didn’t you ever lay under the tree and watch the lights, dream of Christmas morning, and imagine the lights were stars that you could wish on?”

“Not really,” she shrugged. “We never really had a tree when I was a kid. I think I was twelve when I inherited our neighbours old one and that was only three-foot tall.” She looked at the tree for a moment before looking down at Rafael again. “You do this a lot?”

“Often.” Rafael patted the floor beside him. “Come on. Try it. It’s kind of fun.”

Olivia’s gaze swept over the length of the tree again. After another moment, she walked over and took a seat on the floor nearby. Slowly she lay down and then slid beneath the tree so that her head and shoulders were laying beneath the curtain of the green, decorated limbs. The sparkle of the tree lights enhanced the light, warm flush of her cheeks. “Okay,” she said slowly. From this angle, the lights did look a little different, but she didn’t really see what all the fuss was about.

“Just wait,” he lifted his gaze to the dancing Christmas lights again. “I used to do this when I was little.” His lips curled with the memory. “My abuelita taught me.”

Shifting on the floor to find a more comfortable position, Olivia chanced a look at him from the corner of her eye.

“When I was really little, we’d lie under the tree. We’d wish on the lights. Just the two of us.” Even when his mother and father were around, it was something he did only with his grandmother. There were other traditions he’d learnt from his parents. And other memories he held. Both good and bad. He felt a chill go through him as he recalled the worst parts of his Christmases past. But the warmth of the tree settled him. It was an abstract feeling, one created by the glow the tree was giving off, but he felt at home with it. “Abuelita would tell me stories about when she was little; celebrating Christmas in Cuba.”

Olivia reached for his hand and gave it a slight squeeze. She tried to imagine a young Rafael, excited for Christmas, lying next to his grandmother, listening intently to the stories she was telling. The image brought a smile to her face.

“It sounds lovely.” She stretched her legs out and let her ankles cross. “And it is kind of pretty from this angle.”

“Well, it works better with white lights,” he teased, referencing their debate at the store the previous week. “Easier to imagine they’re stars.”

Ignoring him, Olivia asked, “So what am I supposed to wish for?”

Rafael’s lips pursed for a moment. “Anything you want. It’s about hopes and dreams. When you watch the lights, you’re supposed to think about what makes you happy. Then you wish for that.” He slanted a look at her. “I should warn you though. The Christmas of my freshman year in college – after my roommate dropped out - I wished for a new roommate who was kind and considerate. I got Rita. The lights don’t always listen,” he smirked.

Olivia snorted, and Rafael found himself laughing with her. They were still giggling when the soft padding of feet on the carpet drew both their attention.

“What are you doing?” Noah’s words echoed those of his mother’s minutes earlier as he crawled under the tree, wriggling between them with Eddie under one arm.

“Wishing on lights,” Rafael explained. “What are you doing out of bed?”

He shrugged. “I woke up. I heard you laughing.” He looked up at the lights. “Can I make a wish?” he asked quietly.

“Of course, mijo.”

“Can it be the same thing I asked Santa for?”

Rafael and Olivia shared a look. “I don’t see why not,” she told him.

“Never hurts to make ‘extra’ sure,” Rafael agreed. They’d seen his list, and he hadn’t asked for anything too extravagant, so was likely to be a very happy boy come Christmas morning.

Noah squeezed his eyes tight shut and made his wish. “Done,” he announced a few seconds later.

“Yeah, what did you wish for?”

Noah’s eyes widened. “I can’t tell you that, Momma!”

Rafael agreed, a similarly askance look on his face. “Surely, you know if you tell your wish it won’t come true, Liv?”

Olivia shrugged. “Worth a shot.”

“You’re silly Momma!” Noah declared.

The three of them lay there, quietly watching the lights until a soft snore broke through the silence. Olivia and Rafael glanced down to find Noah dozing lightly, his head resting on Rafael’s arm. Olivia reached across and gently moved an errant curl from the boy’s forehead, meeting Rafael’s eye as she did.

“So, this whole light gazing thing?” she asked. “Do you do this every year?”

“I used to, but erm… it’s been a while,” he admitted. He cleared his throat and sighed. In his slumber, Noah rolled toward him and Rafael curled an arm around his boy. “It’s kind of ironic really. The past few years when I was sitting alone in my apartment, pining for you, I didn’t do it. But now, here I am, lying on the floor when I already have everything I could ever wish for.”

There was, of course, the matter of his proposal but, while he’d be disappointed if she said ‘no’ he’d still have her and Noah. And that, he vowed, would be enough.

Olivia gazed at him for several moments, a soft smile on her face. When she finally looked away, it was to lift her eyes toward the sparkling lights above them. She watched the play and dance of the sparkling lights and the way the ornaments and bulbs reflected the different colours. When she glanced back from the corner of each eye, she saw that Rafael was also once again gazing at the tree.

Closing her eyes and drawing in a silent breath, she made her wish. More nights like this one, simple joys and quiet laughter, with Rafael and Noah beside her.

Chapter 6: Tuesday (7 days to go…)

Rafael shuffled nervously from foot to foot as he waited outside the school for Noah’s class to be dismissed. He’d unexpectedly got out of the office early. He was supposed to be meeting with Rita - he had taken on the immigration case of one of her clients who was being accused of assault, but she’d come down with a heavy cold and had gone home to recuperate. So, he’d taken the rest of the afternoon off, without telling his new assistant, Emma. As far as she knew, he was still at Rita’s office. He didn’t like lying to his assistant, but he hadn’t known her for long and wasn’t sure if she could be trusted to stand up to Olivia and keep the information from her, should the need arise. His girlfriend could be rather intimidating when she wanted information that wasn’t forthcoming!

The reason for his subterfuge was that he wanted to speak to Noah about his plans to propose to Olivia at Christmas. He’d been trying to get the boy alone for the past few days but every time he had been about to bring up the subject, Olivia had appeared. He had been beginning to think he’d never get the opportunity, but then Rita’s assistant had called. Emma had been on a break and he just happened to have been walking past her desk and recognising the number of Rita’s firm on the caller ID, he’d answered it. As he listened to the polite, young woman explain that Rita had fallen ill so he wouldn’t need to trek the eight blocks to her office, it had seemed too good to be true. But he’d jumped at the opportunity that had fallen into his lap.

Rafael turned towards the door as the bell rang out and watched for Noah to emerge. When he did, the boy looked around for Lucy, frowning for a moment when he didn’t see her.

“Hey, mijo!”

Noah’s head snapped in the direction of his father’s familiar voice.

“Dad!” He ran over and wrapped his arms around Rafael’s waist. “What are you doing here? Where’s Lucy?”

“My meeting got cancelled, so I thought I’d pick you up and you and I could go for ice-cream.”

“Ice-cream?!” Noah repeated, a smile spreading across his face.

“Sound like a plan?”

“Yeah!” he replied, taking his hand and tugging him away from the door.

Rafael stood firm. “Hang on, mijo. I just want to speak to Mrs Rozniak.”

Noah sighed but waited patiently as his father spoke to his teacher.

“Mr Barba.” She held out a hand. “So nice to see you again. Thank you for the cookies.”

Rafael smiled and shook the teacher’s hand. “You’re welcome, although it was all Noah’s idea. I thought I’d take advantage of a quiet work day and come and pick Noah up. Has he had a good day?”

She nodded. “Yes. No problems. We had our first dress rehearsal today and Noah looked very smart in his costume.”

The school’s Christmas program was in three days and they had been asked to provide dark trousers, a Christmas jumper and a Santa hat for Noah to wear during the performance.

“You’ll be here on Thursday, yes?” Mrs Rozniak asked.

“Yes,” confirmed Rafael. “I’ve had my assistant clear my schedule. My…” he trailed off as he realised he’d been about to call Olivia his wife. “Noah’s mom has booked the time off too.” Lucia had also arranged to be there – luckily, Noah’s event didn’t clash with the one at her school. And Lucy was planning to attend too.

“Great. Well, I’d better let you go. I know better than to come between a first grader and his ice-cream,” she said with a light chuckle. “See you on Thursday. See you tomorrow Noah.”

“Bye, Mrs Rozniak.” Noah gave her a wave as he skipped off with Rafael.

***

Rafael settled Noah into a booth, with his recommended reading, while he went to the counter to order. He didn’t need to ask what Noah wanted. This was a usual haunt for them and Noah had the same dish every time.

As he queued, he kept glancing back towards Noah checking on him. It had been over a year since Sheila Porter had snatched the boy, but the scars still remained. He could still remember the terror that had engulfed him when he found out the boy was missing, the helplessness he’d felt as he stood in Olivia’s office. He never wanted to experience that again.

He placed his order and, once he had their drinks, he hurried back to the table. Noah was happily reading, so Rafael scooted in opposite him and let him continue, periodically asking him questions to check his understanding. They continued reading until the waitress set their sundaes down in front of them, at which point Noah, unsurprisingly, lost interest in the book.

He dived right into his ice cream, eating so quickly Rafael was surprised he didn’t get brain freeze. As he watched his son eat, Rafael considered the best way to start the conversation. He didn’t want to just blurt it out, but he if he wasn’t direct, Noah would more than likely change the subject. The boy could jump from topic to topic like no one Rafael had ever known.

“You’re not eating your ice cream, Dad,” Noah observed. “It’s gonna melt.”

Noah’s words drew Rafael back to the present, and he picked up his spoon. “Sorry, mijo. Lost in my thoughts.”

“About the people you’re helping at work?”

Noah was always interested to hear the stories of the people Rafael was helping to stay in America. He didn’t really understand the reasons they’d had to leave their home countries and why they weren’t allowed to just stay, but he liked to hear about them, nonetheless.

“No, actually. I was thinking about Christmas.”

“Are you sure Santa will find us at the new house?”

Rafael smiled. Noah had been excited about moving but he had been very concerned that his presents wouldn’t arrive. “You told him we’d moved in your letter, and when you saw him at the store last week.”

“But he has lots of children to remember.”

“And that’s why he has elves.” Rafael put down his spoon and held Noah’s gaze. “Trust me, mijo. Santa knows we’ve moved, and he’ll deliver your presents.”

“Promise?”

“Promise. Speaking of presents,” he continued, absentmindedly stirring his ice-cream, “I wanted to talk to you about a gift I was going to give your mom.”

“Okay,” Noah said around a mouthful of ice-cream.

“Now, this is a surprise, so I need you to promise you won’t say anything to your mom about it, okay?”

Noah met his gaze. “I promise.”

“So…” he took a steadying breath. He didn’t remember ever being this nervous about anything. “How would you feel if I asked your mom to marry me?”

Noah’s eyed his father curiously. “Did you talk to Santa?”

Rafael’s brow furrowed. “No. Why?” he asked carefully.

“Because I asked Santa for you to marry Momma, so you’d be my Dad properly.”

“You asked Santa for…” Rafael trailed off as Noah’s words registered. “Wait, what do you mean, be your Dad properly. I am your Dad. We agreed on that back in Miami.”

“I know. But Billy Slater said you weren’t really my Dad because you’re a Barba and I’m not. I told him that he was stupid and to get lost but…” Noah shrugged. His classmate’s words had had more of an impact that he’d wanted to admit.

“Noah, mijo,” Rafael’s throat clenched with emotion. “I am, and always will be, your Dad. Whether I’m married to your mom or not. Being a Dad isn’t about who you’re married too, it’s about loving your children and taking care of them.”

“But I want to be a Barba, like you,” he said quietly, looking down at his melting dessert.

Rafael reached across the tabled and took Noah’s hand. “Nothing would make me prouder than you becoming Noah Porter Barba,” he said, blinking back tears. “But even if your mom says ‘no’ to marrying me, or ‘not yet’, I’ll still be your Dad and nothing – especially not Billy Slater – will change that. Okay?”

“Okay.” He nodded before shovelling a couple more spoonfuls of ice cream into his mouth. “When Mrs Rozniak got married, she got a sparkly ring,” Noah commented.

“That’s right. I have one for your mom.” He reached for the ring box in his pocket. Placing it on the table, he opened it, so Noah could see. “Think she’ll like it?”

Noah regarded the ring for a moment. “It’s pretty but it looks old.”

Rafael couldn’t help but laugh at the boy’s honesty. “That’s because it is, it was my abuelita’s,” he explained. “She died a few years ago, but she’d have loved your mom… and you. She’d want your mom to have it. But, if your mom wants a new one, I’ll buy her a new one.”

As Noah polished off the rest of his ice cream, Rafael considered Noah’s words. What he had told Noah was true; he would always think of Noah as his son, no matter the answer to his proposal. He had assumed that if Olivia accepted, his adoption of Noah would be the next step, but maybe he needed to be a bit more proactive about the situation, to give everyone a little more clarity.

He glanced at Noah who, ice cream now finished, had gone back to his book, and pulled out his phone. He quickly typed out a text and hit send.

Hey Rita. Fancy dipping your toe back into family law? I need a favour. R x 

Chapter 7: Wednesday (6 days to go…)

“Noah, sweet boy!” Olivia called from the sofa through to the kitchen where Noah was putting his empty glass in the dishwasher.

The boy came running at the sound of his name, his socked feet skidding on the laminate floor. “Yeah?”

“There’s a letter for you.”

Noah’s brow furrowed. “Me?” he asked. “But I never get mail unless it’s my birthday.”

“Well, today must be your lucky day.” Rafael pulled out a bright red envelope from the pile of mail he was holding and passed it to Noah. “Go on, open it.”

Snatching the proffered envelope from his dad’s hand, he tore it open and unfolded the piece of paper that was inside.

“It’s from Santa!” he gasped.

“Wow! What does it say?” Olivia asked, pulling him onto her knee so they could all look at the letter together.

Noah read the words carefully, only needing to check with Olivia on a few that troubled him. 

Dear Noah,

With Christmas only a week away, things are very busy here at the North Pole, but I wanted to write because one of my elves told me you were worried that I wouldn’t find you at your new house. Please don’t worry. I have a very big book which lists all the children’s addresses and whenever a child moves to a new house it updates magically.

I promise I know where to find you on Christmas Eve and your good behaviour this year has ensured you are at the top of the nice list. There are still six days to go though, so make sure you keep it up. I got your letter and I’m sure you’ll get everything you asked for.

Don’t forget to hang up your stocking on Christmas Eve and please make sure you’re in bed early, as I can’t visit any houses where children are still awake. Oh, and if you could leave a mince pie and a carrot out for me and Rudolph, we would be very grateful.

Love from

Santa Claus

When he finished reading, Noah dropped the letter into his lap. “Santa wrote to me?” he whispered, awe and wonder lacing his tone.

“I told you Santa would know where we lived,” Rafael said.

“Yeah, you said his elves helped him, but you were wrong, he has a magic book,” Noah replied, playfully. He always liked it when he knew something his Dada didn’t. He picked up the letter in his hands. “This is so cool! Can I take it to school tomorrow to show everyone?”

Olivia smiled. “Sure. Why don’t you go and put it in your bag, so you don’t forget?” she suggested.

Noah jumped down off the sofa and ran into the hallway, where his bag hung on a hook by the door. Rafael, who was on bedtime story duty that night, called after him.

“Go and do your teeth and I’ll be up in a few minutes, okay?”

“Okay, Dad.”

A few seconds later, Olivia and Rafael heard the sound of his feet on the stairs.

“That was a really sweet thing you did for him,” Olivia commented, snuggling into his side.

“What?”

Olivia raised an eyebrow. “The letter from Santa.”

Rafael feigned innocence. “I don’t know what you mean. That letter came directly from the North Pole. Look at the postmark.” He pointed to the discarded envelope.

Olivia giggled. “Yeah, with a little help from a well-dressed elf, I’m sure.” 

Rafael shrugged and flashed her a half-smile as he stood from the sofa. “I’d better get up there. Hopefully, I won’t be too long and then we can get the rest of his presents wrapped.”

***

Rafael poked his head around Noah’s door. “Have you chosen a book, mijo?”

Noah nodded and held out the book. “How the Grinch Stole Christmas!” It had been the gift he had received from the mall Santa when they paid him a visit, but Noah had wanted to finish the final Harry Potter book before reading anything else.

“Dr Seuss? Well, it’s been a while, but I’ll give it a shot.” He perched on the edge of the bed. “Budge up.”

Noah obliged, and Rafael shifted, putting his arm around Noah’s shoulders. He lifted his legs onto the bed, stretching them out along the length and opened the book. Clearing his throat, he began.

Every Who Down in Whoville liked Christmas a lot… But the Grinch, who lived just north of Whoville, did NOT! The Grinch hated Christmas! The whole Christmas season! Now, please don’t ask why. No one quite knows the reason.  It could be his head wasn’t screwed on just right. It could be, perhaps, that his shoes were too tight. But I think that the most likely reason of all, May have been that his heart was two sizes too small.

Whatever the reason, His heart or his shoes, He stood there on Christmas Eve, hating the Whos, Staring down from his cave with a sour, Grinchy frown, At the warm lighted windows below in their town. For he knew every Who down in Whoville beneath, Was busy now, hanging a mistletoe wreath. “And they’re hanging their stockings!” he snarled with a sneer, “Tomorrow is Christmas! It’s practically here!”

“I don’t understand how anyone doesn’t like Christmas,” Noah declared. “It’s the best.” He grabbed his favourite stuffed elephant – who had been adorned with a tinsel collar - from the bed next to him. “Right, Eddie?”

Eddie nodded (with a bit of help from Noah, of course) and Rafael realised that a short and sweet story time was not to be. Noah was in one of his talkative moods, where he would interrupt the story with comments, questions and observations.

Then he growled, with his Grinch fingers nervously drumming, “I MUST find some way to stop Christmas from coming!” For tomorrow, he knew, all the Who girls and boys, Would wake bright and early. They’d rush for their toys! And then! Oh, the noise! Oh, the Noise! Noise! Noise! Noise! That’s one thing he hated! The NOISE! NOISE! NOISE! NOISE!

Then the Whos, young and old, would sit down to a feast. And they’d feast! And they’d feast! And they’d FEAST! FEAST! FEAST! FEAST! They would feast on Who-pudding and rare Who-roast-beast. Which was something the Grinch couldn’t stand in the least! And THEN They’d do something He liked least of all! Every Who down in Whoville, the tall and the small, Would stand close together, with Christmas bells ringing. They’d stand hand-in-hand. And the Whos would start singing!

“I don’t like singing.”

“But you’re singing tomorrow in the holiday programme,” Rafael reminded him.

“I know, but only cos Mrs Rozniak says I have to, and she said if we all do a good job, we can have extra recess.”

Rafael chuckled to himself. If only the deals he’d used to make at work had been that easy. “Well in Whoville, everyone loves to sing, without the promise of extra recess,” he told Noah, continuing with the story.

They’d sing! And they’d sing! And they’d SING! SING! SING! SING! And the more the Grinch thought of this Who Christmas Sing, The more the Grinch thought, “I must stop this whole thing!” “Why, for fifty-three years I’ve put up with it now!” “I MUST stop this Christmas from coming! But HOW?” Then he got an idea! An awful idea! THE GRINCH GOT A WONDERFUL, AWFUL IDEA!

“I know just what to do!” The Grinch laughed in his throat. And he made a quick Santy Claus hat and a coat. And he chuckled, and clucked, “What a great Grinchy trick!” “With this coat and this hat, I look just like Saint Nick!” “All I need is a reindeer…” The Grinch looked around. But, since reindeer are scarce, there was none to be found. Did that stop the old Grinch? No! The Grinch simply said, “If I can’t find a reindeer, I’ll make one instead!”

So he called his dog, Max. Then he took some red thread, And he tied a big horn on the top of his head. THEN He loaded some bags and some old empty sacks, On a ramshackle sleigh and he hitched up old Max. Then the Grinch said, “Giddap!” And the sleigh started down, Toward the homes where the Whos Lay asnooze in their town. All their windows were dark. Quiet snow filled the air. All the Whos were all dreaming sweet dreams without care.

Rafael paused as he noticed Noah looking at Eddie, his head tilted slightly to one side. “You okay?”

“I wonder if Eddie would like some antlers?”

“I don’t know, he’s already got that very long trunk, antlers might be a little bit much.”

Noah contemplated his father’s words as he looked at Eddie. “Yeah, maybe.”

When he came to the first little house on the square. “This is stop number one,” the old Grinchy Claus hissed, And he climbed to the roof, empty bags in his fist. Then he slid down the chimney. A rather tight pinch. But, if Santa could do it, then so could the Grinch. He got stuck only once, for a moment or two. Then he stuck his head out of the fireplace flue. Where the little Who stockings all hung in a row. “These stockings,” he grinned, “are the first things to go!”

Then he slithered and slunk, with a smile most unpleasant, Around the whole room, and he took every present! Pop guns! And bicycles! Roller skates! Drums! Checkerboards! Tricycles! Popcorn! And plums! And he stuffed them in bags. Then the Grinch, very nimbly, Stuffed all the bags, one by one, up the chimney! Then he slunk to the icebox. He took the Whos’ feast! He took the Who-pudding! He took the roast beast!

“The Grinch is a meanie!” Noah commented.

“He certainly is.”

“You’d put him in jail, wouldn’t you, Dad?”

Rafael nodded. It was a long time since he’d sent anyone to jail. His job now was about helping people. Noah knew that but he had a rose-tinted view of how things used to be when he and his mom caught the bad guys together. “I would, mijo. For a long, long time.”

“Yeah, cos you’re the best.”

Rafael, feeling slightly emotional at Noah’s words, had to clear his throat before continuing.

He cleaned out that icebox as quick as a flash. Why, that Grinch even took their last can of Who-hash! Then he stuffed all the food up the chimney with glee. “And NOW!” grinned the Grinch, “I will stuff up the tree!” And the Grinch grabbed the tree, and he started to shove, When he heard a small sound like the coo of a dove. He turned around fast, and he saw a small Who! Little Cindy-Lou Who, who was not more than two.

The Grinch had been caught by this tiny Who daughter, Who’d got out of bed for a cup of cold water. She stared at the Grinch and said, “Santy Claus, why,” “Why are you taking our Christmas tree? WHY?” But, you know, that old Grinch was so smart and so slick, He thought up a lie, and he thought it up quick! “Why, my sweet little tot,” the fake Santy Claus lied, “There’s a light on this tree that won’t light on one side.” “So I’m taking it home to my workshop, my dear.” “I’ll fix it up there. Then I’ll bring it back here.”

“You shouldn’t lie. Lying is wrong.” Noah commented. 

“It is. But liars always get their comeuppance,” Rafael assured, “Shall we see what happens to The Grinch?”

Noah nodded, lying his head against Rafael’s shoulder.

And his fib fooled the child. Then he patted her head, And he got her a drink and he sent her to bed. And when CindyLou Who went to bed with her cup, He went to the chimney and stuffed the tree up! Then the last thing he took was the log for their fire!. On their walls, he left nothing but hooks and some wire. And the one speck of food that he left in the house, Was a crumb that was even too small for a mouse.

Then He did the same thing to the other Whos’ houses Leaving crumbs much too small for the other Whos’ mouses! It was quarter past dawn… All the Whos, still a-bed, All the Whos, still a-snooze When he packed up his sled, Packed it up with their presents! The ribbons! The wrappings! The tags! And the tinsel! The trimmings! The trappings! Three thousand feet up! Up the side of Mt. Crumpit, He rode with his load to the tiptop to dump it!

“PoohPooh to the Whos!” he was grinchishly humming. “They’re finding out now that no Christmas is coming!” “They’re just waking up! I know just what they’ll do!” “Their mouths will hang open a minute or two, Then the Whos down in Whoville will all cry BooHoo!” “That’s a noise,” grinned the Grinch, “That I simply MUST hear!” So he paused. And the Grinch put his hand to his ear. And he did hear a sound rising over the snow. It started in low. Then it started to grow.

“It’s Christmas! The Grinch didn’t ruin it!”

Rafael smiled at Noah’s sleepy enthusiasm. “No, he didn’t. Christmas Day came anyway and the Whos celebrated, even though they didn’t have presents.”

“They celebrated without presents?”

“They did. Listen…”

But the sound wasn’t sad! Why, this sound sounded merry! It couldn’t be so! But it WAS merry! VERY! He stared down at Whoville! The Grinch popped his eyes! Then he shook! What he saw was a shocking surprise! Every Who down in Whoville, the tall and the small, Was singing! Without any presents at all! He HADN’T stopped Christmas from coming! IT CAME! Somehow or other, it came just the same!

And the Grinch, with his grinch-feet ice-cold in the snow, stood puzzling and puzzling: “How could it be so? It came without ribbons! It came without tags! It came without packages, boxes or bags!” And he puzzled three hours, till his puzzler was sore. Then the Grinch thought of something he hadn’t before! ‘Maybe Christmas,’ he thought, ‘doesn’t come from a store. Maybe Christmas… perhaps… means a little bit more!’

And what happened then? Well…in Whoville they say, That the Grinch’s small heart Grew three sizes that day! And the minute his heart didn’t feel quite so tight, He whizzed with his load through the bright morning light, And he brought back the toys! And the food for the feast! And he, HE HIMSELF! The Grinch carved the roast beast!

Rafael glanced down as he felt Noah’s weight grow heavier against him. The boy’s eyes were closed, and his breathing had evened out. He was out.

Gently, Rafael laid Noah down and pulled the covers up to his chin. He shifted slightly in his sleep, tightening his hold on Eddie.

As he watched his son sleep, Rafael considered the words of the poem’s penultimate verse. He’d been doing a lot of reflection on Christmas recently and he knew for sure that the best things about Christmas definitely didn’t come from a store.

Chapter 8: Thursday (5 days to go…)

Rafael stood in the elevator, eyes fixed on the display, watching the numbers creep up. He took a deep breath as it flicked to nine. Since his resignation, he’d been here only a handful of times. It hadn’t been in his plan for today either; Olivia was supposed to come home for lunch and they would make their way to Noah’s school for his Christmas program from there. But they’d caught a major case – a Senator’s son had been accused of raping of a girl at a party the night before – and she’d text him, apologising that she wouldn’t be able to make their lunch date. They’d agreed to meet at the school, but the more Rafael thought about it, the more he wanted them to arrive together. It was their first Christmas together as a family and he wanted to experience everything with her.

So, he decided to surprise Olivia by picking her up at the precinct. It had seemed like a great idea at the time; they could still eat lunch together and then make their way to the school, but now, now he wasn’t sure. Even though he’d only been here a few times, each time he entered the squad room, he was assaulted by memories of his time working with SVU, of everything he had lost. The place was full of ghosts.

The elevator arrived at the floor with a ‘ding’ and Rafael took a steadying breath as the doors opened. He may have lost a lot, but he had gained so much more.

He strode down the corridor and turned the corner into the squad room to come face to face with Amanda.

“Barba. We weren’t expecting you.”

“Plans changed so I thought I’d surprise Liv.” He nodded towards her office. “She busy?”

“Not with anything important,” Amanda replied with a shrug.

Rafael wondered at the strangeness of her tone and as he neared Olivia’s office and began to make our snippets of a conversation she was having, he understood.

“My gut says he’s guilty, Peter.”

“Well, unfortunately, your gut isn’t grounds for getting you a warrant.”

Rafael stopped just shy of the doorway. Stone. She was in there with Stone. He had managed to avoid him ever since returning to New York, timing his few visits to the precinct with times Liv said he’d be in court and hiding in their bedroom on the one occasion he had called round to the apartment to see Olivia.

He edged forward, peering into her office. She and Stone were stood in front of the window into the Conference Room. It shouldn’t have come as that much of a surprise – he was her ADA after all, but seeing the man who prosecuted him, standing where he once stood stung just a little. No matter how much he may have gained by pursuing a personal relationship with Olivia, he still missed their professional sparring.

Gathering all the courage he had, he rapped his knuckles against the doorframe and they turned simultaneously to face him, although, he was pleased to note, not quite as in-sync as she used to be with him.

“Rafa! What are you doing here?”

“I know we agreed to meet at the school, but I figured since you were so busy, you wouldn’t have had time to stop and eat, so…” He shrugged, holding up the small paper bag bearing the name of her favourite deli.

She smiled at him as she approached, touched by his gesture. And with how well he knew her. She hadn’t eaten – time had gotten away from her as it often did when working big cases.

“Thank you.” She smiled as she took the bag from him and noticed where it was from. “Chicken Club?” she asked.

“Of course.” It always had been her favourite. Knowing he couldn’t ignore Stone forever, he forced himself to glance behind her and give him a nod. “Mr Stone.”

“Mr Barba.” Peter returned the nod before turning back to Olivia. “You need more. I simply cannot get you a warrant based on what you have.”

Olivia let out an exasperated sigh. “Fine, I will get Carisi and Rollins to go back over the witness statements and Fin will call you if they find anything.”

“You mean you’re not going to be overseeing the investigation?” Peter asked, eyebrow raised.

“Not directly.” She shook her head. “I have the afternoon off.”

“The mayor’s office has already been on the phone three times this morning. Come on Liv, we’re talking about the Senator’s son here!”

Rafael bristled at hearing Stone use the familiar nickname for Olivia. “And we’re talking about our son,” he told Peter. “It’s his Christmas Program at school this afternoon.”

“I… I didn’t know,” Peter stuttered. He’d heard on the grapevine that Rafael had returned and that he and Olivia were involved, but he hadn’t realised the three of them were so much of a family. She didn’t share much of her personal life with him, and now he understood why. He’d prosecuted the man she was in a relationship with.

“That’s okay,” Olivia said. She’d not mentioned it to him, preferring to keep their relationship as professional as possible. “But you understand why I can’t stay. Fin is more than capable of holding the fort for a few hours, even with a big profile case. He’s worked here nearly as long as I have.”

Peter nodded. “I will leave you two to your lunch.” He stopped in front of Rafael. “Nice to see you back in New York, Mr Barba.” He held out a hand.

Rafael eyed the younger man, trying and failing to gauge the sincerity of his statement. The man would be a great poker player, he thought. Despite the animosity between them, Rafael shook the ADA’s hand. Manners first, as his abuelita would say. Even if he wanted to crush the man’s pitching hand.

As Olivia saw Stone out and briefed Fin on what they needed, Rafael unpacked their lunch and set it on Olivia’s desk. When she returned, he was stood by her chair, which he pulled out for her.

“Madam, your table is ready.”

***

Rafael and Olivia enjoyed a leisurely walk through the park, stopping occasionally to steal kisses from each other. One kiss led to them getting particularly distracted and resulted in them having to jog the final leg to the school. They entered the auditorium with moments to spare, Lucia staring at them quizzically as the lights dimmed. They sat patiently through the kindergarten section of the program, watching as the youngest children performed several songs. Once they’d finished and filed off stage, the first graders took their place. They sang, ‘Santa Claus is Coming Town’ before several children – including Noah – stepped forward.

A girl with auburn curls cleared her throat. “First Grade presents, ‘Twas the Night Before Christmas’ by Clement Moore. Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house, not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse…

The children took it in turns to recite a verse of the poem as Olivia, Rafael, Lucia and Lucy listened intently as they waited for Noah’s turn. As the poem neared the end, Noah scanned the audience, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth. Rafael gave him a reassuring nod and smile, not dissimilar to the ones he and Liv once shared in the courtroom. Noah returned the gesture and stepped toward the microphone. Puffing out his chest, he took a deep breath and began,

“He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work, And filled all the stockings, then turned with a jerk. And laying his finger aside of his nose, And giving a nod, up the chimney he rose! He sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle, And away they all flew like the down of a thistle. But I heard him exclaim, ‘ere he drove out of sight, ‘Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good-night!’”

All the first-graders joined in for the last line, but Noah wasn’t finished with his part. “And now, to conclude our section of the performance, we will sing, ‘Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer’.”          

The children produced antlers and red noses from the floor of the stage and put them on, before singing with gusto. They finished to rousing applause – Lucia leading a standing ovation – and took their bows.

The program continued with performances from the other grades – a selection of songs, poems and dramas – as well as a staff song that had all the children in giggles. The final act of the show was a whole-school rendition of ‘Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas’, followed by another round of thunderous applause.

The lights went up and the children shuffled impatiently in their seats, keen to greet their parents. When the first graders were finally allowed to get up, Noah bounded over to his family.

“Hi sweet boy,” Olivia greeted as she embraced him. “You were so good up there!”

He pulled back from the hug. “Really?” He looked to Rafael.

“Definitely. We could hear every word.” He ruffled Noah’s hair. “Well done, mijo.”

Noah beamed at his father’s praise and turned to his grandmother. “Did you like it, Abuelita?”

“Like it? I loved it.” She patted her handbag and whispered conspiratorially, “I might even have stolen some ideas for my school for next year.”

Noah giggled as she flashed him an exaggerated wink.

Olivia smiled as she watched the two of them. After all the drama with Sheila Porter, she was glad Noah had a grandmother he could rely on. “Do you want to join us for dinner, Lucia?”

“Thank you mija, but I can’t. I have… other plans.”

“Anything exciting?” Rafael asked.

She patted him on the arm. “Nothing that you need to concern yourself with, mijo.” She kissed his cheek. “I will see you on Monday. Let me know if you need me to bring anything.”

She turned on her heel and left the auditorium before Rafael could ask any further questions. He merely stood, watching his mother’s retreating form with his mouth slightly agape.

“That’s our topic of conversation at dinner tonight then,” Olivia whispered to Lucy, with a roll of her eyes. “I don’t suppose you would like to…?”

“I think I’ll give it a miss,” she smiled.

“Traitor,” Olivia retorted.

“Who’s a traitor?” Rafael asked, his attention now back on his family.

Olivia shook her head. “Never mind.” She linked her arm through his and took Noah’s hand. “Come on, let’s get our future Oscar winner home.”

Chapter 9: Friday (4 days to go…)

It was 8 pm and the Christmas party at the 1-6 was in full swing. The 1-7 were covering their shifts – it was a reciprocal arrangement that had been going on for several years – and everyone was glad for a night off to decompress and forget about the awful things they dealt with in their jobs and just to enjoy the holidays.

The table in the conference room was littered with trays of hors-d'oeuvres and cookies, as well of bowls of punch and eggnog. Holiday music was blaring out of the Bluetooth speaker on Fin’s desk. Olivia had put him in charge of the music, save Carisi put Fairytale of New York on repeat. Noah and Jesse, along with the children of several other officers, were showing off their dance moves while they waited for Santa to arrive.

Olivia leant on the doorframe of her office, absentmindedly stroking the white plaits of the Mrs Claus hat Rafa had bought her and smiling as she watched Noah, dressed in his elf hat, teach Jesse how to floss.

“I don’t know where he gets his energy from,” commented Rafael as he approached, two glasses of punch in hand.

“It’s the excitement,” Olivia told him, taking the glass he offered her. “Plus, I suspect Carisi has been sneaking him candy.”

“So, Fin and Rita?” He nodded to where her sergeant was talking with his date. “Did you know about that?”

Olivia shook her head. “Not a clue.” She had been just as shocked as everyone else when Fin had taken a phone call, disappeared for a few minutes and then returned with the defence attorney, who seemed to have recovered from her cold, in tow and introduced her as his girlfriend. “But you know Fin, he’s doesn’t exactly wear his heart on his sleeve. Rita didn’t say anything to you?”

He shook his head. “Not a word.”

Olivia watched as Rita laughed at something Fin said, her hand gripping his upper arm. “Strange as this may sound, I think they might be a good fit,” she commented, lifting her drink to her lips. She took a sip and recoiled, starting at the strong alcoholic taste.

She turned to Rafael to find a similar expression on his face.

“Someone spiked the punch?” he asked, with a despairing shake of his head. “Spiked punch. People dating outside their allotted cliques. What is this? High School?”

Olivia threw her head back and let out a laugh, noticing for the first time the sprig of green that hung in her doorway. “Huh.”

Rafael followed her gaze. “Is that… mistletoe?”

“It appears to be, although I swear it wasn’t there half an hour ago.” She glanced around the room, noticing every doorway had been adorned with the festive plant. “It seems we’ve had a visit from an elf.”

“Interesting. Did you know,” began Rafael, “that, according to Norse legends, the tradition of kissing under the mistletoe arose from a mistake involving the Goddess Frigga? Her son, Balder told her that he had dreamt that he was to be killed. To save him, she ordered every animal and plant not to harm him. She specified that Balder could not be hurt by anything that grew on the earth or under the earth, but the mistletoe was exempt. An enemy of Balder realised this and had him killed by a spear of mistletoe. Frigga resurrected her son and then made the mistletoe a sacred plant that brings love to the world by insisting that any couple standing under it must kiss each other.”

“Is that so?” she replied with a smile, tilting her head.

Rafael nodded, taking another – smaller – sip of his punch. “It is.”

“Well, we don’t have to…” Olivia didn’t want him to feel pressured. While most of the people at the party knew they were a couple, overt public displays of affection had never been something either of them had been comfortable with.

“I disagree,” Olivia’s eyes shot up to meet his and he smirked. “We wouldn’t want to annoy the Norse gods now, would we?”

He stepped into her, closing the gap between them. Their lips were mere centimetres apart – they could feel their breaths mingling – when the jingling of bells sounded in the corridor accompanied by a shout of, “SANTA’S HERE!” from the children.

Olivia and Rafael jumped apart and turned towards the door, to see Don Cragan – in full Santa regalia enter!

“Ho! Ho! Ho! Merry Christmas!”

***

In the hours that followed, Olivia and Barba found themselves under the mistletoe several more times, but never with each other. Fin, Carisi and Cragen all placed gentle kisses on Olivia’s cheek and Barba bestowed similar on Amanda and Melinda.

Every time they had tried to catch each other in a doorway, someone else had appeared or one of them had been needed to deal with something else. Rafael was beginning to think they were cursed, and he would never get to kiss her.

Out of the corner of his eye, he glimpsed Olivia entering her office, Noah in her arms. The boy had been practically falling asleep on his feet, so he assumed she was taking him to lie down on the sofa. This was it, he thought, this was his chance. He would meet her in the doorway on her way back into the squad room.

It was the perfect plan. Except for the fact that Stone was also heading her way and was a hell of a lot closer than he was.

Rafael clenched his jaw. ‘Oh no, not again. And certainly not because of him,’ he thought as he strode across the office.

He had just reached Amanda’s desk when he heard Carisi call his name.

“Barba! Can I ask you something, counsellor?”

Rafael barely held in his eye-roll, preparing himself for whatever inane legal question the younger man had.

“Is Die Hard a Christmas film? I say yes, Rollins says no. We need a deciding vote.”

“Not now, Carisi,” he growled as he continued to race Stone to Olivia’s office.

There was no way he was going to make it in time. Stone was nearly at the corridor that led to the interrogation rooms and he was still in the middle of the squad room. Short of running across the room – and looking like a desperate, jealous idiot – he was at a loss for what to do.

***

Luckily, Rita Calhoun was an observant soul. She could easily while away many hours sitting in a coffee shop, people watching – much to her new boyfriend’s consternation. She’d been watching her old friend all night as he tried and failed to get a kiss from Olivia and she saw this latest opportunity arrive. She knew Rafael had seen it too, if his determined stride across the office was anything to go by. It was only when she saw the panicked look on his face, did she realise that he was heading for another flunk out. All thanks to Peter Stone.

God, how she hated that man! He’d tried to send her oldest friend to prison. While she didn’t agree with Rafael’s actions – and the less said about him hiring Dworkin rather than her to defend him, the better – he had acted out of mercy and hadn’t deserved the witch-hunt that had followed. She hadn’t had much to do with the new ADA, but it seemed it was time to introduce herself. To fall on her sword for the sake of her friend’s romance. It wouldn’t do to have someone who was due to propose in 4 days to be getting into a jealous sulk.

Running a hand down Fin’s arm, she excused herself and stepped forward. “Excuse me, Mr Stone? I’m Rita Calhoun, of Petersen, Calhoun and Ross. I wonder if you have a moment…”

***

Rafael watched, mouth wide, as Rita stepped in and rescued him from having to make a complete fool of himself and made a mental note to add a bottle of Grey Goose Vodka to her Christmas present.

With Stone distracted, he picked up his pace a little, grateful for the reprieve but unsure how long it would last. The gods of Christmas must have been looking down on him favourably because he arrived in Olivia’s doorway at exactly the same moment she was leaving.

He lifted his eyes to check the mistletoe was, in fact, still there. It would be just their luck that it had magically disappeared. Not that he needed an excuse to kiss her, but it was their first Christmas together and a kiss under the mistletoe was a tradition that just had to be adhered to. Upon seeing the sprig of green still hanging there, Rafael’s shoulders sagged in relief.

“Finally,” he sighed, eliciting a smile from Olivia.

“My sentiments exactly,” she agreed, curling her fingers around one of his suspenders. 

He met her halfway, cupping her cheek as he captured her lips in a sweet kiss. Lingering. Unhurried. It was with some reluctance that they parted, but this was not the time or place to be getting carried away.

“Merry Christmas, Rafa,” Olivia whispered, pulling away and resting her forehead against his.

“Merry Christmas, Liv,” he replied, before stealing another quick kiss.

Chapter 10: Saturday (3 days to go…)

Olivia stirred slowly, blinking against the light streaming through the gap in the curtain. She glanced at the clock on her bedside table. It was almost nine. It was unusual for them to sleep this late; the late night at the party must have taken its toll on Noah, putting paid to their early morning wake up call. It wouldn’t long until he would be awake though.

Olivia threw back the covers and shivered at the chill in the air. She grabbed her robe from the back of the chair and pulled it on to shield herself from the cold as she padded over to the window. She let out a gasp at the sight that awaited her. Snow was falling heavily and mixing with a strong wind creating a world filled with a swirling, disorientating, almost blinding whiteness.

“Liv?” Rafael called groggily from their bed as he sat up.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“S’okay. How’s the weather?” The forecasters had been predicted snow, but there had been differing predictions about how much.

“Take a look for yourself.” She stepped back from the window, pulling the curtain far to one side so he could see.

“Wow. It’s a veritable blizzard out there. Guess our plan for the park is out of the question.”

Olivia nodded. “Today is definitely an inside day.”

Rafael swung his legs over the side of the bed and joined Olivia by the window. He wrapped his arms around her waist.

“Good morning.” He ghosted his lips across her cheek. “Sleep well?”

“Mmm.” She smiled. “Morning.”

“I’ll go and start breakfast,” he offered, giving her a little squeeze before crossing the room. “I might have promised Noah pancakes this morning if he was good last night.”

“Not too much sugar,” she called after him. “Not if we’re spending the entire day cooped up inside.”

On entering the kitchen, Rafael switched on the coffee maker before gathering the supplies he needed and setting to work. He was just whisking the batter when Noah wandered into the kitchen, rubbing his eyes.

Rafael put the whisk down and reached out to ruffle his son’s hair. “Good morning, sleepy head.”

“Morning.” As Noah lifted his head to speak to his father, he noticed the weather outside. “Awww. Mom said we could go to the park today.”

“I know, but it looks like the weather is too bad. The forecast is advising people to stay indoors, for the morning at least.”

Noah shuffled to the table and sat down, his elbows on the table and his hands cupping his face. The pout on his face was one Rafael recognised well.

“I know it’s disappointing, but when the weather settles down there’ll be lots of snow to play in. In the meantime, how about you help me make breakfast, huh?”

Noah turned his head and his eyes widened as he spotted the bowl in his dad’s hands and the familiar ingredients on the counter. A smile spread over his face. “Pancakes?”

“Well, you behaved really well last night, and I did promise.”

“Can we make them into Christmas pancakes?” Noah asked, standing on his tiptoes to get a better look at the progress his dad had made.

“Christmas pancakes?” Rafael turned to face him, his brow furrowed. “How do we do that?”

“With chocolate chips and Christmas cutters,” Noah replied as if the answer should have been obvious.

“Of course.” He poured the first batch of batter into the pan. “Well, if you can find the cutters, it’s a deal.”

Olivia had unpacked the kitchen and Rafael was still getting to grips with where she’d put everything. He was able to locate the items they used on a regular basis, but he hadn’t seen the box of cookie cutters since they moved in.

Noah, of course, found them instantly and presented them to Rafael with a triumphant smile.

“Great job mijo. So, when they’re done, I’ll put them on the cutting board and you can cut them, then put them on the plate, okay?”

Noah nodded and began sorting through the cutters, pulling out the Christmas shaped ones and laying them on the table. A tree, a snowman, a stocking and a star.

“What shapes do you want, Dad?”

“I think I’ll have a snowman and a star.” He flipped the first pancake, smiling too himself when it landed back right in the middle of the pan. “You should choose two shapes for your mom too.”

Noah looked around. “Yeah. Where is she?”

“She’s in the shower, but we can keep hers warm in the oven if she takes a while.”

“Here we go,” Rafael announced, carrying the pan to the table. “First pancake is up.” He slid it onto the wooden chopping board and Noah picked up the tree-shaped cutter.

The two worked together to make a variety of festive pancakes and by the time Olivia emerged, fully dressed, with her damp hair left to dry naturally, breakfast was ready.

“I thought I said not too much sugar,” Olivia lightly chastised Rafael as she watched Noah squeeze several tablespoons of syrup onto his pancakes.             

Rafael shrugged. A bit of sugar couldn’t hurt that much, could it?”

***

The morning went by relatively quickly and smoothly. Noah was kept occupied by making Christmas cards for Lucia, Lucy and his honorary aunts and uncles from the squad. Rafael covered Noah’s hand in white paint and Olivia helped him make prints in the middle of the blue cards. While they were drying, Noah watched a festive episode of Paw Patrol, before collecting his markers and returning to the dining table. On each of his fingers, he drew a different snowman. Different shaped hats, different coloured scarves, different facial expressions. Once that was done, Rafael helped Noah with his writing as Olivia made lunch.

After finishing his soup, Noah began to get antsy. It started innocently enough. Fidgeting, distraction, excessive talking and giggling, until he was careering around the room, in a superhero cape, swinging Eddie around by his trunk. Rafael was running around after him, trying to get him to sit and work a puzzle or read a book. Noah wasn’t having any of it and Rafael was becoming increasingly frustrated. The last straw came when Eddie flew out of his hand and knocked a photo of Rafael’s abuelita off the mantlepiece. It crashed to the floor, the sound of the glass smashing echoing in the room.

“Noah Porter Benson!”

The harsh tone of his father’s voice broke through Noah’s sugar rush and his bottom lip began to wobble. Tears came shortly after, loud, penitent sobs.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to break it.” He dashed towards the shards of broken glass intending to help clear up but skidded to a halt as both his parent’s shouted.

“No!”

Olivia approached him and crouched down. “I know you want to help, but the glass will be sharp, sweet boy. Your Dad and I only shouted because we didn’t want you to get hurt. Do you understand?“

Noah nodded, sniffling and wiping his nose on his sleeve.

“Go and sit on the couch, while your Dad and I clean this up.”

With another sniffle, Noah trudged over to the couch and flopped down on it. He was still sobbing when Rafael walked past him to get a dustpan and brush. When he returned, he handed the brush off to Olivia and sat down next to Noah, stroking his hair.

“I’m sorry if I scared you by shouting, mijo.”

Noah looked up. “You were mad at me.”

Rafael paused, considering his words. He never wanted Noah to feel even a fraction of what he himself had felt at the hands of his father, but he was afraid it was too late. “I was upset at the fact that the photo got broken, not at you. I know you didn’t mean to do it.”

“Am I going to be on the naughty list now?”

“No. Oh, Noah.” He reached out and gathered the boy to him. He rubbed soothing circles on his back. “It was an accident. You shouldn’t have been running around like that, but you didn’t deliberately break the frame. However, I do think Santa would appreciate it if we sat down and did something quiet for a bit.”

“Will you watch a movie with me?”

“Of course, in fact, why don’t we all watch? Did you have a film in mind?”

“Muppet’s Christmas Carol.”

Rafael smiled. “Of course.” They’d only watched it ten times since Thanksgiving. Rafael was fairly confident he could recite over 80% of the dialogue. Oh, and the songs. Once they were in your head, there was no getting them out.

As Rafael found the movie on Netflix, Noah shuffled back on the sofa. “Can we have ice cream?”

Rafael shook his head. “I think we should lay off the sugar for a bit, mijo. How about some milk and some apple slices instead?”

“Okay, Dad.”

A few minutes later, the three of them were snuggled up on the sofa, watching as Ebenezer Scrooge was visited by three ghosts in a last-ditch attempt at redemption. By the time the Ghost of Christmas Future arrived, Noah had crashed down from his sugar high. He was fast asleep, head pillowed on Olivia’s knee, the plate which had contained his apple slices sliding out of his hand.

Rafael dropped his head back and let out a sigh. “Y’know, in hindsight, perhaps chocolate chip pancakes and syrup weren’t a good combination,” he mused.

Olivia reached over and patted his knee. “It would have been fine if it hadn’t been for the weather keeping us inside,” Olivia assured. She picked up her phone and scrolled to the weather up. “Thankfully, the forecast for tomorrow is better, Rollins and Carisi should be able to get him and Jesse to the park for a bit.”

The two detectives were taking Jesse to see Santa and had offered to take him as well, to give Rafael and Olivia some time alone during the festive period. Noah had been eager to go – not wanting to miss a final opportunity to remind Santa that they’d moved to a new house and to amend his Christmas list, now he knew that his Dad was going to ask his Mom to marry him. Olivia and Rafael had taken full advantage of their offer and vowed to return the favour at some point over the holiday period.

“And we should be able to get to our destination. I love Noah, I do and the time the three of us spend together, but I’m not going to lie, it will be nice to spend some time alone, just the two of us.”

“Will you tell me where we’re going yet?” Olivia asked. Almost as soon as Olivia had told him about the detectives offer to babysit, Rafael had taken it upon himself to plan something for them, and he was being annoyingly tight-lipped about it.

He shook his head and replied with a smirk, “You’ll just have to wait and see.”

Chapter 11: Sunday (2 days to go…)

It was a clear, crisp day as Olivia and Rafael drove north. He had planned for them to spend the day exploring Harriman State Park. They both loved living in the city, but recently they had, on separate occasions, bemoaned the length of time it had been since they had been out in the fresh air. Rafael was just thankful that the weather hadn’t hampered his plans.

The snowfall the night before had actually been a blessing. It had created a beautiful, picturesque winter wonderland just for them to enjoy as they explored one of the winter trails. The view as they walked hand in hand through the park was magnificent; the trees all covered in a lustrous blanket of snow and the scenery competed with anything in any cheesy Hallmark movies.

They were walking back to the car when Olivia spied two rabbits ahead in the clearing. They stopped and watched them for a while, afraid that if they moved the animals would be frightened away. Olivia watched the rabbits race around, kicking up snow with their hind feet. Rafael watched Olivia. The winter wind had added hints of red to her cheeks and the tip of her nose. Her eyes were bright as she watched the creatures play.

Rafael noticed the snow-covered branch directly over her head and his hand, of its own volition he was certain, reached out and firmly shook the branch. Mounds of snow from that branch as well as the two above it fell upon her.

She gasped both from surprise and the shock of the coldness of the snow now covering her hair, sticking to her eyelashes and running down the back of her neck. Olivia slowly turned to face him. When her eyes met his and he viewed the promise of revenge he saw there, he did what any self-respecting man would do in the same situation – he ran.

He hadn’t gotten very far away from her when he checked over his shoulder to see if she was pursuing him. His world exploded into painful whiteness as the first snowball hit him in the face, and the second between the shoulder blades. The third, hit him square in the chest when he turned, taking the offensive, and began to chase after them. He heard Olivia laugh as she ran, and he took delight in the sound until she ducked under a low branch, pushing it forward so that it was his turn to be sprayed with snow when it snapped back. He stood, covered with snow, unable to help thinking that although he had started this little battle in the snow, he was getting his ass kicked.

Another snowball brushed past his ear and he set out after her with determined intent. Olivia lost her footing and she slipped on a patch of ice. She twisted her body so that she landed hard on her butt in the snow. Still laughing, she laid back in the snow so that her arms were next to her sides. Rafael walked up to her and watched as she moved her arms and legs out and back.

“What are you doing?”

“Making a snow angel.“ She pointed to a clear patch of snow close to her. "You should try it.”

Rafael eyed the snow with disdain. “I don’t think so.”

“You don’t want to make a snow angel?” Her voice reflected her disappointment.

“Nope.” He smiled as he answered, then he dropped down trapping her beneath him. “I’d rather make out with an angel in the snow.” He whispered softly before kissing her tenderly.

She squirmed beneath him, and not taking his mouth from hers he captured both of her hands in his and pinned them above her head. He deepened the kiss and she responded in kind, but she also raised one of her legs to gain some leverage beneath him. Rafael shifted slightly to the side, making it impossible for her to move.

He bent his head so that his lips merely tantalized hers before descending to her jawline. His lips and tongue blazed a trail to just below her ear. The feather-like movements tickling and exciting her beyond words. She attempted to free her hands, but he held on tightly, keeping them above her head.

He nipped softly at her earlobe where it poked out from underneath her hat before nosing her scarf out of the way to run his tongue along the sensitive spot on her neck. Rafael lifted his head and looked into her brown eyes. He saw there the effect his movements were having on her; they were wide with desire.

“Rafa.” Her voice was deep, raw with passion. “Take me home. You can make out with an angel on the sofa in our living room, in front of that giant fireplace you insisted on having. If we stay out here much longer the explanation as to why my ass is frostbitten is going to be embarrassing.” She smiled up at him coyly.

He took her hand and pulled her up from the snow before leading her the short distance back to the car.

***

The teasing continued on the journey home. Once she was suitably warmed up, Olivia paid Rafael back for his actions in the snow by laying her hand on his thigh, tracing patterns in the denim of his jeans. Her fingers had risen higher and higher until they were teasing the now prominent bulge in his trousers.

By the time they arrived home, the tension between them was palpable. Olivia fumbled with the key in the lock as Rafael pressed up against her back, his breath ghosting over the skin of her neck.

He steadied her hand with his and together they got the door open. They barely made it inside before they were kissing. He kicked the door closed behind them and she pushed him back against it. Several minutes later, Olivia pulled away breathless. She stepped back from him and, with a smouldering smile, offered him her hand. He took it without hesitation and allowed her to lead him through the hallway.

The afternoon was growing late, and Rafael left her side only for a moment to switch on the tree and light the fire.

When he returned, their kisses grew more urgent. Rafael’s tongue began to tangle with hers more aggressively as she felt the fierce tension in his body escalate; his arousal pressing into her belly. His hands stole up under her sweater to caress across the skin of her back, causing her to arch against him as goose bumps broke out everywhere.

He dragged his mouth away from hers to trail it open along her chin and began to kiss and suck his way down her neck as she tilted her head back to give him better access. One large hand smoothed its way lower to cup and squeeze her rear. He bent her back over his arm slightly to reach the hollow of her throat, just above her collarbones. First, his nose nuzzled, and then his tongue dipped into it, giving testament to his fascination with this spot.

He nipped a titillating path across her collarbone, then gently nibbled his way up the side of her neck. Her breasts warmed and swelled, and her nipples tightened almost painfully in response to the sweet torture he was working on her exposed neck.

One of his hands was now under her sweater, resting on the side of her ribcage, his thumb making slow, wide sweeps from her waist to the edge of her bra. His other arm was effectively holding her upright and against him, as she had long ago lost all sense of balance. The hand attached to that arm was still stroking and squeezing her bum.

She ran the fingers of one hand through his hair, cradling his head as he began to run the tip of his tongue around her ear. She could feel his hot breath on her skin, causing a riot of sensations in her core.

She felt his fingers around her ribs tighten and his hand on her rear gave a slightly more gripping squeeze and held him against her. She felt his body give a little shudder.

“Liv,” he breathed against her ear. It was both a prayer and a plea. The teasing was fun, but he couldn’t take much more. He needed to make love to her.

Recognising the desperation in his tone, she tucked her head into the curve of his neck and whispered, “I think it’s time we christen our living room.”

Chapter 12: Christmas Eve

O holy night! The stars are brightly shining It is the night of our dear Saviour’s birth Long lay the world in sin and error pining ‘Til He appeared, and the soul felt its worth A thrill of hope the weary world rejoices For yonder breaks a new and glorious morn

Fall on your knees! O hear the angel voices! O night divine, O night when Christ was born; O night divine, O night, O night Divine.

Truly He taught us to love one another; His law is love and His gospel is peace Chains He shall break, for the slave is our brother; And in His name, all oppression shall cease Sweet hymns of joy in grateful chorus raise we Let all within us praise His holy name.

Christ is the Lord! O praise His Name forever His power and glory evermore proclaim! His power and glory evermore proclaim!

Olivia held Rafael’s gloved hand as they followed Lucia up the steps to the large, stone church. Sacred Heart. Snow crunched under their boots, their breath fogging in front of them. It was a clear, frigid night; the stars shining brightly in the dark sky. Olivia shivered and hunkered deeper into her wool coat.

“Dad?” Noah tugged on Rafael’s other hand. “Abuelita said it’s going to be really, really late when we leave church. Do you think we’ll see Santa?”

Olivia threw a disbelieving look at Rafael over the top of the boy’s head, and he had to bite back a grin. They’d been following the NORAD Santa tracker all night at Lucia’s and he’d heard Olivia tell Noah at least twice that Santa was still very far away from North America. However, true to form for a six-year-old, when he was told something he didn’t want to hear, he asked someone else.

“Sorry, mijo. I don’t think Santa will be here for a while yet.” At Noah’s frown, Rafael continued. “But you don’t want to see him anyway.”

“Yes, I do,” the boy insisted.

“No, you really don’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because if you see him the magic’s gone and he disappears.”

Noah’s eyes widened – he was now listening to every word his father said. “So, I wouldn’t get any presents?”

“Nope. The presents come with the magic.”

“Oh…” Noah sounded a bit shocked by that news. “Then I’m gonna keep my eyes closed all the way home.”

“Good idea,” Olivia agreed.

“I don’t think you’ll have to worry about it,” Lucia said as they reached the top of the steps. “If they’re anything like Rafi when he was little, he’ll be sound asleep by the time we leave church.”

Rafael opened the large, oak door, allowing his mother, Olivia and Noah to pass before following. Inside the vestibule, he and his mother paused to dip their fingers in the font of holy water, crossing themselves before entering. The church was dimly lit; the sanctuary covered in fir garlands and red ribbons, the altar surrounded by dozens of large flowering red poinsettias. Each pew was decorated with garland, a big red velvet ribbon tied in a bow and a white candle. Organ music filled the chamber with the soft beautiful strains of “O Holy Night”, which just happened to be one of Rafael’s favourite Christmas hymns. The scent of frankincense permeated the air, bringing with it the sense of familiarity and peace that it always did for him when he attended midnight Mass.

There was something mystical about this service. It brought back all the feelings of enchantment that Rafael had felt as a child. The rituals, the Christmas hymns, the excitement of being allowed to stay up so late, the strangeness of being at church so deep in the night and – best of all – the titillating possibility of seeing Santa and his reindeer flying across the night sky. All of it had been magical for him and now, as he watched Noah look around wide-eyed, he hoped it would be the same for him.

But for all that, his feelings as an adult ran so much deeper. Reaching out to thread his fingers through Olivia’s, he looked down the pew at her, Noah and his mother. His family. Warmth spread through him. He truly was blessed. He had a woman in his life that loved him with all her heart – who, tomorrow, would hopefully agree to spend the rest of her life with him – and a son who had accepted him as his father without question. He never saw himself as a father, but now he couldn’t imagine not being one. To top it off, he had reconciled with his mother, who although ageing was doing so gracefully. He couldn’t remember ever being as happy as he was right now.

The only blemish on that happiness was that his abuelita wasn’t there to celebrate with them. It may have been almost four years since her death, but he still missed her and that feeling only intensified during the holiday season. He wondered what she would say if she could see him as he was now; a family man. Would she be proud of him, even though he would never become a judge as she had always dreamed?

The twinge of pain he felt at that thought caused his hand to tighten on Olivia’s as he bit back the sting of tears. She looked over at him and, as if reading his mind, gave him a small smile. That smile could lighten his day and cause his knees to go weak with lust. It could fill him with tenderness and make his heart soar with joy. And best of all there were times, like tonight, when it had the power to make him feel like no matter what happened; everything was all right.

After a brief moment of silence that got everyone’s attention, the organist began the loud joyous strains of “O Come All Ye Faithful” – which began in Latin but eventually switched over to the English translation. The sanctuary lit and the congregation rose for the opening procession; the swinging thurible of smoky incense, ministers carrying the cross and candles, the deacon carrying the Book of Gospels and finally the priest. Standing at Olivia’s side, listening to the voices rise in the call of the faithful, a sense of peace washed over him. It was as if his abuelita was with him, reminding him that even though he’s not a judge, he’s done well; that he’s succeeded in life.

He smiled back at Olivia. And with the joy of that peace, his voice joined the rest of the congregation in the beautiful hymn.

Adeste, fideles, Laeti triumphantes, Venite, venite in Bethlehem! Natum videte, Regem angelorum Venite, adoremus! Venite, adoremus! Venite, adoremus! Dominum!

O come, all ye faithful Joyful and triumphant O come ye, o come ye to Bethlehem Come and behold Him Born the King of Angels! O come, let us adore Him O come, let us adore Him O come, let us adore Him Christ the Lord

***

Trying not to wake Noah, Rafael tiptoed down the stairs. When he got to the living room, he found it dark, save for the blinking lights on the Christmas tree. They must have forgotten to shut them off when they finally stumbled off to bed after returning from midnight Mass and putting the gifts out under the tree.

They’d just settled into bed when Olivia had realised they’d eaten the cookies Noah had left for Santa but had forgotten the carrots he’d put out for the reindeer. So, he’d agreed to come down and destroy the evidence. Sitting down on the couch, he snapped the vegetable about three-quarters of the way up and then bit into it, so it looked like it had been nibbled.

After placing the carrot back on the plate, Rafael sat back on the sofa and his gaze was drawn to the small, wooden nativity that Lucia had bought them to mark their first Christmas in their new home. The baby Jesus lying in the manger. His brain couldn’t help but transport him back to the last time he stood over a baby in a crib. Rather than being the beginning of life, it had been the end. He reminded himself that he had acted with compassion and mercy, rather than out of hate or evil.

“Hey.”

At the touch of a hand on his shoulder, Rafael was brought out of his thoughts, looking up to see Olivia smiling down on him.

“Hey, what are you still doing up?” He took the hand she rested on his shoulder and kissed the back of it.

“I was waiting for you to come back to bed,” she said, allowing him to pull her down onto his lap. “When you were taking so long, I got worried. You okay?”

He nodded. “It’s just been an emotional day, that’s all. Since my grandmother… Christmas has always been difficult, but this year…”

“You’re thinking about Drew, aren’t you?” Olivia carded her fingers through his hair soothingly. She knew the ghosts of his actions ten months previously would always haunt him. As time went on, they appeared less and less, but they would always be there; especially during the holiday season.

Rafael nodded. “I’m okay though,” he assured her. It wasn’t a lie. For the most part, he was. He’d received absolution for his actions from everyone that mattered and had made peace with what he had done. Still, he couldn’t help but wonder how Drew’s parents were coping on this, the first Christmas without their beautiful baby.

“Have I told you lately that I love you?” she asked.

He gave her a half smile. “Never hurts to hear it again.”

Olivia cupped his handsome face in her palms and leaned in close. “I love you, Rafael Barba,” she whispered just before her lips touched his.

No matter what he’d done in the past, he was here now with the woman he loved. And he could not think of a better way to end Christmas Eve than snuggling with her by the light of the tree.

Chapter 13: Christmas Day

“It’s still coming down out there,” Olivia commented, as she looked out of the window, watching the snow fall through the darkness. While not as intense as the blizzard of the other day, it had been falling steadily for most of the day. A white Christmas.

And what a Christmas it had been. Olivia honestly didn’t think it could have been more perfect. She had woken up in the arms of the man she loved and spent Christmas Day in their new house. Lucia had joined them for lunch, before announcing she was spending the evening with her new boyfriend, Richard.

At this news, Rafael had cross-examined his mother as if she was a defendant on the witness stand. To her credit, and her son’s surprise and slight irritation, she held up well, answering what she wanted to and seamlessly deflecting what she didn’t. It was Noah who finally brought an end to the interrogation, tempting Rafael away to assemble his new Lego Jedi Star Fighter.

The Star Fighter had been Noah’s main present, but he had received lots of other gifts too. He had been well and truly spoilt. There had been several other toys, new clothes, DVDs, books and crayons as well as his own weight in chocolate and candy. But his favourite present by far had been the new sneakers that Lucia had bought him. He hadn’t taken them off all day.

“Can we watch Harry Potter now?” Noah asked. The DVD box set had been a present from Don and Eileen and Noah had been dying to watch it all day.

Olivia let the curtain drop and turned around. “Okay. I’ll go and get us some drinks and then we can all snuggle up and watch together, that sound good?”

“Yeah!” Noah nodded, and Olivia headed for the kitchen, running her hand over Rafael’s shoulder’s as she passed him sat on the sofa.

With the coast clear, Rafael beckoned Noah over. “Hey, mijo, before we watch, what do you say we give Mami her other present?” he asked, his voice low so they wouldn’t be overheard. Noah nodded. “Do you want to go and get it? It’s in my bedside drawer. There’s another present in there too. Bring them both, please.”

Noah ran off through the hall and up the stairs; his sneaker-clad feet pounding on the wooden steps.

Olivia laughed at the sound as she returned from the kitchen, balancing two wine glasses and a juice cup. “He’s going to want to wear those to bed, isn’t he?” She handed him a glass of wine. “Where’s he off to anyway?”

Rafael shrugged and lifted his glass and took a sip of the dark, red liquid. Olivia placed her glass on the coffee table, pulled the DVD Noah had chosen off the shelf. While she was putting the disc in the player, Noah returned and handed the two wrapped gifts to his dad, who quickly hid them behind the photo of his abuelita, which now resided on the end table in a brand-new photo frame. The frame had been a last-minute addition to his Christmas gifts from Noah, who had felt bad that it had got broken because of him.

“Liv?”

She glanced back at him over her shoulder.

“Leave that for a minute will you and come here?” He patted the cushion next to him. She placed the DVD in the machine and obliged him, leaving the menu to play on repeat.

“What’s up?” she asked.

“So…” Rafael began, rubbing his palms up and down his thighs. He hadn’t expected to feel as nervous as he did. “It seems Santa left something else for you.”

He pulled a neatly wrapped present, a box about the size of a Rubik’s Cube from off the end table and handed it to her.

“Rafa!” she gently admonished, as she fingered the delicate gold ribbon. “You already bought me enough.” There had been a new watch, a cashmere sweater, a replacement bottle of perfume, a leather backed desk diary – with weekly lunches pencilled in for the two of them – and a bottle of her favourite Cabernet under the tree for her that morning, and it was more than she’d expected.

“Just open it,” he urged.

She carefully untied the ribbon and lifted the lid off the box. A small gasp escaped her as she took in the contents. In the centre, nestled in red tissue paper, was a small, circular, wooden box engraved with the message, ‘Olivia Benson, Say Yule Be Mine’.

Her eyes widened as she took in the words. Ever since that day at the Christmas markets she’d been thinking about it, imagining it. Could it really be happening? With trembling fingers, she lifted the wooden box out of its larger casing and opened it. Upon seeing the vintage style ring, her hand flew to her mouth.

Rafael gently took the hand holding the box in his own. “Liv, I love you and being here, being a family with you and Noah has made me happier than I have ever been, and I want to be with you for the rest of my life.” He slid to the floor on one knee. “Will you marry me?”

“Rafa…” She swiped away the few tears that had escaped as her emotions overwhelmed her and were now slowly rolling down her cheeks.

“Before you answer, I should tell you, this is kind of Noah’s Christmas wish, so y’know…” He gave her that half smile, the one that was a unique mix of confidence and nerves. One that he only ever used with her.

Olivia couldn’t stop the small peel of laughter that bubbled in her throat. “Oh well in that case…” She joined him on the floor, lifting her free hand to his cheek. “Yes. Yes, of course, I’ll marry you. I was always going to say yes,” she smiled. “You didn’t need the emotional blackmail.” She leaned forward and captured his lips in a sweet kiss and Noah cheered.

Pulling back, Rafael reached for the ring and she held out her left hand. He placed the ring at the top of her fourth finger but paused before sliding it on. “This was my abuelita’s ring. I know it’s not exactly the latest fashion, so I’ll buy you a new one if you want but-”

“Don’t even think about it,” Olivia warned.

Rafael laughed, and finally slid the ring onto her finger, before pulling her in for another kiss.

Noah, who had bouncing up and down, launched himself at the pair of them, wrapping an arm around each of their necks. “What about the other gift, Dad?”

“Oh, yes.” He picked up the second package, wrapped in snowman paper, and read the tag. “Oh,” he feigned surprise, “it seems this one’s for you.” He held it out to him.

Noah tore off the paper to reveal a manila envelope. His brow furrowed, but he opened the flap, sliding out some papers. They contained a lot of writing which Noah didn’t really understand, but he sounded out the words in bold print at the top.

“Petition for Adoption,” he read. His eyes scanned the page and he spotted a few familiar words. “Hey, that’s my name.” He looked up at Rafael.

“It is.” He pulled Noah into his side. “If your mom and I sign these papers, it means that I become your Dad, officially and you’ll be Noah Porter Barba.”

Noah’s eyes widened, and he looked from Rafael to the papers and then to Olivia. “Santa did it! He brought what I asked for!”

Rafael looked over at Olivia. “I know I should probably have talked to you about this before but-”

Olivia quietened him with a finger to his lips. “No, this… this is perfect.” Once, she may have been annoyed with him for being so presumptuous, but he was already Noah’s father in every way but legally. She knew they were heading towards this, and Olivia found she didn’t mind one bit that he’d taken it upon himself to arrange this. She reached for the gold pen she had bought Rafael for Christmas to replace the one that had been lost back in February when he’d packed up his office at 1 Hogan Place. Taking it out of its box she handed it to him. “Seems fitting that this is the first thing you sign with it.”

He took the pen from her and spread the forms out on the coffee table. His hand hovered over the papers. “You sure?” he asked Olivia.

“I’ve never been surer of anything.”

“Noah? What about you? Is this still what you want?”

He nodded. “Yes. Please, Dad.”

With a flourish of the pen, Rafael signed the form in all the required places. He passed the pen over to Olivia. Their fingers brushed as she took it from him. A few moments later the form was complete. Their journey to becoming ‘The Barbas’ was underway.

She secured the lid on the pen and placed it back in its box and joined Rafael and Noah, who had returned to the couch. Rafael lifted his arm and Olivia snuggled into his side. As Noah pressed play, Olivia realised she had been wrong before, their first Christmas together could be be more perfect. And it had been. She couldn’t wait to see what next year would bring.

[hviral]

The Holy Grail of stone fruit is in season

Delayed gratification is never a pleasant thing. “I’d gladly pay you Tuesday for a hamburger today,” was a favorite maxim of Wimpy from the “Popeye” cartoons. And so when a friend told me last December about a plum — a very special plum; the plum, perhaps, of all plums — I was naturally excited. And dismayed, simultaneously, at the prospect of a months-long wait to try the fruit.

But seasons passed and the world turned, months turned to weeks, and I eventually found myself in stone fruit season, possibly the best of all seasons. Among the peaches, pluots and apricots, I was really just pining for an opportunity to try one thing: the fussy, elusive greengage plum. The greengage is a small European variety that was once commercially popular but has since been nearly totally overwhelmed by the larger, sturdier Asian plums introduced to this country by Luther Burbank.

The greengages are in season, folks. Right now. And for about a couple of weeks. I got to eat some and if you’re lucky, you might too.

Known as the Reine Claude in France, or Queen Claude, after one of the daughters of Louis XII, the greengage bears a modest, subdued beauty. Called the “queen of plums” by English food writer Edward Bunyan, the greengage indeed has an air of quiet, aristocratic power. No larger than a golf ball, these are a deep shade of asparagus green, save for the lucky few that have been tinged a poppy-like shade of yellowish orange by the sun.

Don’t be fooled, though, into thinking that these are the hard, tart (and delicious) Kelly-green yeşil erik you find inundating the fruit carts of Istanbul during summer. While tiny and seemingly unripe, a greengage is preternaturally sweet, juicy and deeply flavorful but possessing far less tartness and tannic pucker than other, more popular plum varieties.

I approached writer and fruit scholar (and freelance contributor to The Times) David Karp to learn more because, really, who else would I approach? Karp, who became enamored with the greengage as a child, is a silent partner with Andy Mariani in the cultivation of the fruit at Andy’s Orchard in Morgan Hill, Calif., near San Jose. It’s likely the largest single source of commercially available greengages in the United States. Karp and Mariani grow three acres of the plums. “There’s maybe three [orchards] in the whole rest of the country,” Karp said.

Karp’s love of the fruit led him to get involved with the cultivation. “I met Andy years ago and I tasted all these fruits and I thought to myself, ‘Jesus, I can’t drive up there five times a summer in order to get this fruit.’ I became hooked!” But greengages have proved tricky to grow, and it’s apparent to Karp why they’ve fallen out of favor in this country commercially.

He explained that whereas larger Asian varieties can be harvested unripe and shipped cross-country as is, “the greengage, when fully ripe, really is too delicate to be shipped across the country.” He pointed to a few plums that had ripened to the point where the thin skin had begun to crack and split open like a blister. Additionally, greengage trees are alternate bearing, meaning you’ll get an overlarge crop one year and a very tiny one the next. “They are finicky,” Karp said. “They probably require more chill than we can provide here.” Chill hours, or the number of hours spent between 32 and 45 degrees Fahrenheit, are essential for certain fruit trees to “know” when it’s time to come out of dormancy and begin growing.

But for Karp, it’s worth the trouble for this decidedly singular fruit. The sweetness of fruit can be measured with a refractometer by a unit of measurement called Brix — the percentage of sugar, by mass, in 100 grams of a given solution. The juice from your standard plum, Karp said, might barely break into the teens. One greengage he measured registered nearly 38.

This year, lucky for me, is a good year for greengages at Andy’s Orchard, and I got my hands on a couple of pounds. I ate almost all of them in one sitting. Barely-there skin yields immediately to sweet, golden-hued, perfectly textured flesh. The first honeyed bite explodes with preposterous sweetness, a shot of nectar balanced with just enough acidity so that it isn’t cloying. Comparisons to other fruits are hard to make: You could make parallels to the sweetness of a lychee without a lychee’s distinct perfumey bouquet, perhaps (though the greengages have an intoxicating floral scent all their own).

Regardless, I ate them. And ate them. And although I had a slight stomachache that evening, there has never been another that was entirely worth the price. When Clement Clarke Moore penned, “While visions of sugar-plums danced in their heads,” he was certainly not writing about greengages, but he may as well have been. It was all I could think of when I nodded off to sleep that night.

Greengages will be at the Andy’s Orchard stand at the Santa Monica Farmers Market this Wednesday (Aug. 14) and maybe the following week, although there are no guarantees. Call ahead to check availability. Andy’s Orchard, 1615 Half Road, Morgan Hill

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