#very polite little fellow he sat there for the whole 30 ish minutes i was on court

[muirneach]

BASELINE SNAKE!!!

[especially-heinous-ada]

A Police Gala pt. 1

Hey, guys! This is the first fanfic I’ve ever written, and I am super excited to share it. It is a Barba x reader. I’m sure it could use some work, since I’m new to this, but darn it, I am proud. Please be gentle with my feelings. Lol. I plan on doing a part two, as well. Please enjoy!

picture cred: http://beloves.storenvy.com/products/17819987-gold-v-neck-sequin-backless-mermaid-prom-dress-formal-gown

Some soundtrack, if you’re interested in the vibe I was going for.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZJpGHR6ofus -- Luck Be a Lady

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=i-ZUXQuFcnw --  New York, New York

The October air was crisp and refreshing as a gentle breeze billowed down the street. The sun had gone down for the night, but New York City was brightly lit by storefronts and streetlights. Everything glimmered and glistened off the damp ground. Wet, splashing footsteps reverberated through the street. Men and women young and old scurried about, trying to reach their destination at the city’s signature, ever-hurried pace. Nearly drowning in the noise of the hustle and bustle were the clacking steps of ADA Rafael Barba’s dress shoes.

He wove in and out of the crowd, attempting to avoid puddles. The last thing he needed was to get his expensive, three-piece suit sopping wet before reaching his destination. The rain had let up but he still carried his umbrella, just in case. He took a deep breath as he approached the entrance.

“Mr. Barba,” one officer nodded, motioning him to go inside. Rafael nodded in acknowledgement and entered the building. Once he was inside, he could hear music playing in the background, stifled by the chatter of many police officers, city officials and fellow prosecutors. After checking in his jacket and umbrella at the coat check, he scanned the room, looking for the bar. It had been a long day. In fact, it had been a long week, and now that it was finally Friday, he needed some Scotch, now. Especially if he was going to be forced to mingle. He finally spotted the bar and crossed the room like a man on a mission.

He sat down before calling for the attention of the bartender.

“Scotch, please.” He said, a female voice mirroring his. He looked to his left in surprise, and she to her right. Rafael gave a half smile and extended a hand.

“Rafael Barba, A.D.A., Manhattan,” he introduced himself.

“Y/N.” You replied, putting your hand in his. “Mucho gusto, abogado.” A gorgeous smile spread across your face and Rafael’s heart nearly skipped a beat.

“Dónde está tu acompaῆante?” He asked.

“No tengo nadie.” Was your simple reply.

“Really?” He exclaimed, his surprise making him slip back into English.

“Really.” You gave an amused smile in response.

“So what are you doing here? You don’t have a date and no offense, but you don’t exactly seem like the type to enjoy these political events.” He remarked with a glance up and down your slender figure. 

Your intention for this night was to not go home alone. That being the case, you wore a glimmering gold dress that clung to your every curve just perfectly—your favorite man magnet. In Rafael’s eyes, it was as if the gods themselves had dipped your figure in liquid gold. He tore his eyes away and took a sip of Scotch to calm himself.

“I, uh…I’m a donor. When precincts need remodeling or new patrol cars and can’t afford it, they call me.” You responded, peering to the bottom of your glass and giving it a swirl before finishing it off. “Can I have another please?” You requested of the bartender. The bartender poured you another immediately, Rafael noticed. It was eye-rollingly obvious he was infatuated with you—not that Rafael could blame him. You took the drink in hand and adjusted your position on the bar stool.

As you crossed your legs, Rafael noticed your color-coordinating sky-high stilettos. You tossed your wavy tresses and he was entranced by the image—you reminded him of the sexy female lead in a Hollywood movie. Between your outfit, hair, and flawless makeup, you looked like candy-coated danger, and he suddenly felt himself craving something sweet.

“A donor, hm? I always assumed our generous donors were all old men with political agendas.” Rafael retorted with his signature dry wit and a matching sideways grin.

“Not all of us. Some are young-ish women who also have political agendas.” You responded with another amused smile.

“Young-ish?” Now it was Rafael’s turn to be amused. “You don’t look a day over 30.” You laughed.

“And yet, I am. I appreciate the flattery, but I’m already donating to the DA’s office; you don’t have to butter me up.” Rafael shook his head.

“I mean it.” He insisted, as a change of songs caused a momentary quieting of the room. Chatter continued for a few moments before the DJ began to play the next song.

“Ah, Sinatra.” As the sounds of the big band era spread throughout the room, you began to tap a beat on the bar counter, until you couldn’t hold it back anymore and had to sing. A few lines later, you looked over and found Rafael raising an eyebrow in surprise. You blushed, embarrassed. “Sorry, I’m a sucker for Ol’ Blue Eyes.”  

“No apologies needed; you have a beautiful voice.” Rafael said. You chuckled in response.

“My grandfather taught me to appreciate the classics,” you said wistfully as a faraway gaze crossed your face. Did she just ignore my compliment? He wondered.

“Would you like to dance?” Rafael blurted out without thinking, extending a hand automatically. You couldn’t help but smile impishly.

“I most certainly would.” You replied, taking Rafael’s hand. He led you out to the dance floor, attempting to give off an impression of regality and confidence, though he wasn’t entirely sure he succeeded. How does one dance to Sinatra? Swing? He suddenly wished he dusted off his dancing skills more frequently than once or twice every couple years.

The two of you reached a location on the dance floor with a satisfactory amount of room and Rafael stopped in place. He took your hands in his and gave his best attempt at leading the dance as another Sinatra song started. Whoever this DJ was, they were certainly a fan of his. As the two of you moved, Rafael recognized the song and began to sing along.

“I wanna wake up. In a city that doesn’t sleep. And find I’m king of the hill, top of the heap—” Pleasantly surprised, you smiled and joined in.

“These little town blues are melting away. I’ll make a brand new start of it, in old New York.” Both of you smiled and laughed as you twirled around singing.

“If I can, make it there. I’ll make it—anywhere! It’s up to you, New York, New York.” As your singing became more enthusiastic, Rafael noticed some of the other guests watching, but he found himself not caring. Let them stare, he thought. After all, here he was, singing and dancing with easily the most beautiful woman at the whole gala. He hoped they were envious, he thought with a wicked smile and devilish little gleam in his eye.

You hadn’t had this much fun in a long time, you thought as you twirled around the dance floor, led by Rafael’s strong arms. He had a very pleasant singing voice—a fact which you hadn’t been expecting. You locked eyes with him as the song’s climax drew closer. They were a striking shade of green and they glittered in the light as he sang. His smile seemed lighthearted and carefree, unlike his serious and guarded expressions from when the two of you were seated at the bar. As Sinatra belted the final notes, he gave you one last twirl and dipped you low, with an arm behind your back for support.

One hand had instinctively gone to his bicep to brace yourself, and you were impressed with the surprisingly hard muscle beneath the expensive fabric of his suit. As you remained in the dip, you watched his gaze dart between your eyes and lips a few times, and you thought he might kiss you. It would have been easy, given the proximity of your faces. Your bodies were so close, you could smell his cologne—an intoxicating, and surely expensive, aroma. After what felt like forever-in-a-moment, Rafael straightened and pulled you up with him. You found herself rather disappointed that he hadn’t kissed you, as a new song began.

“That was fun. I’ve been an ADA so long, I almost forgot what fun was.” He joked, flashing a charming smile. You felt her heart pitter patter. “If it’s not any trouble, can I have another dance?” Out of habit, you checked your watch and realized you had someplace to be in the next ten minutes.

“Oh, sh-- Is that the time? I’ve got to split, actually.” A flash of disappointment crossed his face, though he tried to hide it.

“Ah. Well, thank you, anyway, for the dance.” He said with an understanding nod. He turned to walk away, and without thinking, you grabbed him by the forearm.

“Wait!” You said. Rafael turned to face you, his face confused. “Just a second.” You said, grabbing a piece of receipt paper and a pen from your clutch. You scribbled your first name and number on it and slipped it into the breast pocket of his suit, giving it a reassuring pat. “That’s my personal number. Feel free to call me the next time you need a dance partner. And absolutely no discussing work.” You smiled with a wink, allowing your hand to linger on his chest for a few extra moments. Rafael grinned and gave a single chuckle.

“You’ll be my first call.”

You couldn’t help but grin back at him. How was he so damn suave? You gave him a little wave before turning and walking away, making sure to put a bit of extra hip movement into your walk, in case he was watching as you left. And with the way you looked in this dress? He definitely was.