It's Friday afternoon and Detective Olivia Benson and ADA Rafael Barba have finally blocked out a weekend of no work to go to the beach. Now all that holds them back is waiting for Noah to get out of school.

Barba sits in the drivers seat as they patiently wait in carline inching ever closer to their freedom from the city. Olivia shoots off one last work text to Nick. "I'm having Fin and Amaro pick up Hamilton right at 6 so he'll have to spend the weekend in lockup."

Barba sighs and looks at her- a sad disgust registering on his face, "Serves him right, the bastard." Hamilton had been raping his own daughter since age 6. But he had enough money to cover things up and keep suspicious people from talking. Even his wife had looked the other way. Barba could barely stand to be in the room with either of them.

Liv reaches over and grabs his hand. "Alright, that's it, sorry. Last bit of work for the weekend. I promise- no perps, no rapes, no child endangerment for two days." She smiles over at him- his previous mood melts away.

As it does, 6 year old Noah climbs into the back seat of the car- oversized back pack nearly pulling him over. He manages to pull it off- with his mother's help and then takes a seat in his booster seat. Barba glances at him in the rearview, "Seatbelt." Noah complies and once he's settled, Barba put the car into drive and pulls out of the school. "Cómo estuvo la escuela?"

"Bien", comes the tiny voice from the back seat.

"English please boys." Olivia did speak and understand Spanish but not as well as the two of them. Afterall, Barba'd been speaking Spanish to Noah since he was one and a half. And with the week they'd had- she'd appreciate not having to concentrate to speak to her own son.

Barba smirks at her plea. She turns around in her seat halfway to talk to Noah. "So what'd you do today?"

"Nothing." Olivia looks a bit perplexed at her usually long-winded son. She throws a glance to Barba- who's already eyeing him in the rearview. Noah's playing with the strap of his backpack nervously. He looks rather pensive.

"Todos bien, compay?"

Noah looks up to meet Barba's eyes in the rearview. "It's just-"

After dealing with the scum of the earth all week- Barba's doing his best to not think about all the terrible things that could be upsetting his son as he waits patiently for Noah to tell them what's bothering him. "Just what, Noah?" He finally breathes out.

"Franny McDonald says you're not my real dad 'cause I call you Raf. And cause you're not married to Mamí. She says that means you can leave whenever you want. She says if you get mad- you'll just leave" Tears start to well up in Noah's eyes but he holds them back.

Barba stops the car and turns to face Noah who's looking out the window trying to hide his tears.

He knew this was coming eventually. He'd officially adopted Noah a little over 3 years ago but he and Liv had never tied the knot. Barba and Liv had started seeing each other outside of work when Noah was a little over a year old. Their mutual trust and passion for the same things made it easy to fall in love. Afterall, they'd practically been an old married couple from the moment they met. It was surprisingly intense and quick- as if both of them had finally found the person they could love more than the job.

After some initial awkwardness with Noah, Barba had gotten the hang of having a kid around. In no time he was wrapped around Noah's finger. So they'd moved in together- become a makeshift family. They'd never gotten married simply because Barba'd never thought to ask- he'd never been this content before- it hadn't occurred to him to make it official until right now. His adoption of Noah had come after a series of rather harrowing ER visits where the staff nearly didn't let him back because he wasn't Noah's father.

But Noah was his son- in everyway possible now. And he was the only Dad Noah'd ever known. And now some kid had told Noah he was going to leave him.

"Noah, mírame." Noah turns to face him- wiping away his tears. "I'm not going anywhere, mijo. Just because Mamí and I aren't married doesn't mean I can just leave. I love you too much- you could never make me mad enough to leave you." He grabs Noah's leg to tickle him- hoping to cheer him up. Noah gives him a weak smile and sniffles. "Besides- the State of New York says I'm your dad- so what does Franny McDonald know anyway?"

A sudden honk from behind him- reminds Barba that he's just stopped in the middle of the street. He turns back around to drive up to a stoplight that's now red.

"But the other kids- with real dad's- they don't call their dads by their names."

Barba looks at Noah in the rearview again and sighs, "Noah, just because I'm not your bio-"

He's stopped by Olivia's hand on his arm- drawing his eyes to her. He'd always been amazed what she could communicate to him in a single look- even from the first time he met her. This look clearly says 'he doesn't want an explanation, he wants permission'.

Barba turns back around to his son. "You can call me whatever you want, mijo."

Noah smiles broadly and Barba goes back to driving.

Noah's smile morphs into a goofy conniving grin, "Like poophead."

Barba sighs but can't help grinning- happy to have his bubbly 6 year old back to normal. For her part, Olivia slinks back in the passenger's seat- doing her best to stifle a laugh. Barba rolls his eyes at her then addresses Noah in the rearview. "We don't call anyone poophead, Noah."

"Pero, Papí, you said whatever I want."

Barba's heart flutters at the sound of Noah calling him Papí but he puts on his best disapproving Dad voice. "Noah"

"OK." Noah giggles.

Barba smiles wryly at Olivia who's finally pulled herself together. She puts a hand on his shoulder and leans in. "Well, no doubt he's your son, he'll find a way to argue anything."

Barba grins at her and takes her hand- maybe this weekend was the time to start thinking about making something else official.