chaptered fic; only a heartbeat away 01 (the scene is set, we played the parts)
pairing: rafael barba/olivia benson
word count: 3358 words
note: a bodyguard-ish AU inspired by a tweet liked by Mariska and the #BarbaForPrez hashtag. Title of fic and chapter titles taken from Vixens' Only a Heartbeat Away.

begin

It was raining heavily, and he couldn't help but think what a cliché it was - a thunderstorm at a funeral.

"President Barba."

Barba looked up, giving a small, perceptible nod to the man that was standing beside him, holding an umbrella.

"President Barba, it's time to go."

"Give me another minute," he said, his tone quiet but authoritative. He stared at the gravestone in front of him, his hands clasped. He was glad that he remembered his sunglasses as he was leaving his office for the funeral. He wasn't crying, but he thought the effort to hold back his tears had probably rendered his eyes bloodshot.

Eddie Garcia was not only his bodyguard, his Deputy Director of the Secret Service, but Eddie Garcia was also his childhood protector and his best friend.

And now, Eddie was dead, gone, because he took a bullet – no, bullets – for the President.

Barba would never forget that moment when he saw that glint of a gun in the crowd, and then Eddie, leaping forwards and pushing him aside, pushing him towards his security team and standing in the line of fire.

And then the gunshots, and Barba watched as his best friend fell into a heap on the ground.

His first instinct was to rush forward, refusing to believe that was Eddie in a pool of blood. Eddie, who had always been larger than life, but was then looking so small lying on the asphalt. Before he could move, a dozen number of Secret Service Special Agents and Officers held him back, shielding him as his security team leapt into action and whisked him to safety.

Eddie didn't survive, he found that out approximately two hours later, when he was sitting in the Oval Office and listening to his entire team – from the Vice President to his Chief of Staff to the Director of Secret Service to the Press Secretary – formulate a plan to keep him literally under lock and key for the next century – or however long his presidential term was going to be.

He had then quietly excused himself upon receiving the news, and he was thankful that everyone allowed him that tiny window of space to grief.

Eddie was buried, with full honors, two days after the shooting.

Barba had managed to hold himself together during the entire funeral service, knowing that the whole world is watching – including those who tried to kill him – and also knowing that the President was not supposed to lose composure at any given moment.

But now that it was just him and Eddie. Barba felt an enormous sense of loss as he knelt down, brushing his fingers across the craving of his best friend's name.

I'm sorry, Eddie. I miss you already.

"President Barba." The Director of the Secret Service – Edward Tucker – approached him. "Sir, we have to go."

Barba straightened himself and stood up, brushing the dirt of the knees of his pants and shrugging on his suit jacket.

"Let's go, then," he said simply, and left the cemetery, bidding his friend a silent goodbye.

"Sir, I would really advise against you attending the Children's Summit in Brooklyn," Fin Tutuola, his Chief of Staff, tapped his pen against the table. "In terms of security…"

"It will then be the security's team to ascertain my safety in Brooklyn, isn't that correct, Mr. Tutuola?" Barba commented, not looking up as he flipped through the folder in his hands. "I promised the community that I will attend the summit and I will not renegade on that. "

"Mr. President, to be honest, I think your situation is a little delicate right now, and I am of opinion that we perhaps should…"

"Where's Director Tucker?" He interrupted. "I thought he was to be here for this morning briefing as well."

Fin bit back a sigh, as he looked at Donald Cragen, the Secretary of State. The older man shook his head and lifted his shoulders in a shrug. He wasn't here for this discussion of the President's security. Cragen was to attend a meeting with China's Foreign Minister in two days' time, and he had to ascertain a few important details with the President.

"Director Tucker is en route," Press Secretary Amanda Rollins looked up from her phone. "He's bringing in the new Deputy Director for the morning briefing."

Barba looked up, unable to stop the brief flash of rage coursing through his body. Realistically he knew, of course, that he needed a new Deputy Director for the Secret Service. But the emotional part of him resented that they had replaced Eddie within a blink of an eye - he was just buried yesterday.

Swallowing his unreasonable anger, Barba nodded and picked up another folder. "Where are we with the new proposal that National Security Council is to have finalised?"

"Vice President Calhoun will be meeting with the Director later this afternoon, Sir. You have a four o'clock meeting with her, and she will brief you and Mr. Cragen as well," Fin informed.

"Miss Rollins, have you prepared a press statement for my attendance at the Children's Summit? I trust that you have it ready for me to review this morning?"

"Certainly, Mr. President," she said briskly, handing him a crisp printout of two pages.

Barba skimmed over the press release, nodding to himself, as a knock sounded on the door. Special Agent Dominick Carisi immediately went to the door, and opened it to reveal Director Tucker and a tall brunette, dressed in a pin-striped suit.

He raised an eyebrow, sipping his coffee as they both walked into the room and stood before him. He scruntinised the woman, determining her to the new Deputy Director for the Secret Service.

She was rather beautiful, he thought, even though he didn't usually judge women by their looks – that was not the most important (or even an important) thing to him. The new Deputy Director had a fierce air of authority about her, she looked confident, intelligent and he had no doubt that she would be supremely competent at her job.

She just wasn't his best friend, that was all.

"President Barba, this is Olivia Benson, the new Deputy Director for the Secret Service," Director Tucker announced. Tucked under his arm was a thick folder that Barba knew entailed Olivia Benson's career and accolades, in which he knew would be going through sometime in the day.

Standing up, Barba buttoned the cuffs of his shirt briskly and held out his hand to her. "Deputy Director Benson, very pleased to meet you."

"The honor is mine, Mr. President," she replied, shaking his hand firmly. "And please do address me as Benson."

"Benson it will be then," he said briskly. "Take a seat. I trust that Director Tucker has briefed you on your journey here, and we can jump straight back into the morning briefing?"

Special Officer Nick Amaro pulled up two chairs as the Secret Service took their seats around Barba's table, as he handed back the press release to Rollins. "This is fine," he said. "Run it when you see fit."

"On the Children's Summit, Sir," Tucker began. "I believe that our advice to you is that you sit this one out and send a representative?"

"Yes, I believe that was your advice but I also believe that I'm not taking it," Barba said calmly.

Tucker frowned. "Sir, with all due respect, it is advisable that you stay out of the public eye for the next few days…"

"With all due respect, Director," Barba snapped. "I am not going to hide away like I am scared, like I am afraid of these people. I have a job to do, and I intend to do it. And I suggest you do the same."

Tucker shut his mouth, tightening his lips. "Yes, sir."

Barba threw a glance at Benson, and the corner of his mouth lifting in a small smirk. "I believe you will be hearing from Director Tucker – if you haven't already – and the rest of the staff about how extremely difficult I am."

Olivia smiled as the rest of the staff chuckled a little. Certainly she had heard stories about President Rafael Barba – how he was not the friendliest man around. As a politician, he certainly knew how to play his cards with the people, but as President, Barba expected a lot out of himself, and therefore it applied to everyone else around him.

He was also legendary for his sharp tongue – being a lawyer and a District Attorney before he entered the office, he certainly wasn't known for being sensitive, and he was never one to mince his words.

But looking at the small company of staff around him, she could feel that most of them – except Tucker, perhaps – held a genuine affection for the President.

"Well? Brief me on the security procedures."

Tucker shot Olivia a look, and she understood. Clearing her throat, she opened the folder in her hands and began to give him a rundown of the security detail, the team, the procedures.

"And finally, Director Tucker has decided that I will be following you at all times, Mr. President, just to have another person of authority close by," she concluded. "Special Officer Carisi and Special Agent Amaro will be permanent team members of your security detail as of now, with other agents officers on rotation. At any given time, one or all three of us will be with you."

Barba rolled his eyes at the thought, but he nodded, understanding the need for this, no matter how annoyed he may feel. He chose not to say anything – he was definitely not looking forward to another lecture by Fin about how he was underestimating the threat in the face of bravado.

He wasn't underestimating anything. He, of all people, knew how real the danger was. He lost his best friend, for fuck's sake.

But he was the President, he wasn't going to hide, and there was no way in hell he was going let the bastards win.

Amaro slipped into the driver's seat as Carisi opened the door for Barba. "Mr. President, Deputy Director…or should I call you boss lady?" He joked.

Barba snorted and slid inside the car as Olivia smiled briefly at him. "Benson is fine, Agent Carisi."

"Nobody would say you can't speak if you don't say anything," Amaro muttered under his breath as his partner got into the passenger seat beside him.

As Amaro started driving, Olivia quickly noted the inside of the car. She had studied the documents over and over again but this was the first time she was actually in the car and she would need to know every nook and cranny of it.

And she had to admit she was starting to feel just a bit stressed. Throughout the whole morning meeting, the President kept rejecting all suggestions to lower his profile because of security concerns. He was adamant to stick to his schedule as if nothing had changed, refusing to be flexible for the matter of personal safety.

It was frustrating, to say the least, and she was very aware of the danger he could still be in.

"Relax, Benson," Barba said, scrolling through his phone. "I can feel the waves of tension radiating off you. Regardless of what they have told you about me, I really do not bite."

Olivia looked at him, suddenly very aware that she was in the backseat of the presidential state car with the President himself. It was her first day on the job and it certainly felt very surreal.

She cleared her throat. "Just making sure that the safety procedures are in order, Sir."

"I think my quota of getting shot at has been filled for the week, so we should be safe for now," he said dryly, putting away his phone and giving her a look.

"Sir, I do not take security procedures in jest," she said sharply. "And I think it would be helpful if you don't either."

"And what makes you think I do, Benson?" He asked calmly, buttoning his suit jacket.

"Mr. President," she began. "I realise that today is my first day as Deputy Director of the Secret Service and as your personal security detail, and perhaps it is not yet my place to say anything. But Sir, I have to say that I do think you are not…placing a lot of concern in your personal safety. If I can say, Sir, it would be good to be more conscientious."

He shot her a sharp glare, holding up his hand. "And you arrived at that rather significant judge of my character from a two-hour meeting and a fifteen-minute car ride?"

She opened her mouth, and then snapped it shut, flushing. Inwardly, she berated herself. She was completely out of line, but for some weird reason, there was something about the President that was…unnerving her.

And that was completely putting aside the fact that he was the President, and that she was his staff and basically responsible for his life.

But it would be absolutely ridiculous to dwell on that, of course.

"Deputy Director Benson, I would suggest perhaps you spend a bit more time with me, a bit more time doing your job, before you make assessments about my character and my personality," he said, his tone steely. "I do not take matters of personal security lightly. However – and please excuse me for sounding completely patronising - you fail to understand that for someone of my position, I cannot make decisions solely pertaining to my own personal interest."

"Sir, I apologise, and…"

"Subject closed, Benson," he interrupted swiftly, and turned away from her, looking out of the window.

Olivia settled into her role well in the next few days. President Barba was not as difficult as people make him out to be, but still difficult nonetheless. Demanding and sharp he certainly was, but after spending days with him, mostly in close proximity, she was beginning to understand the way he worked.

Director Tucker had suggested that perhaps she could be crafted to be seen as President Barba's personal secretary and staff, being that she was a woman. She highly resented that female stereotype of secretaries and personal assistants, and Barba vehemently objected to the idea, but then she had to admit that as far as security measure went, it was a workable idea.

No one would actually think that the brunette with the president was actually a former Lieutenant Commander for the US Navy, and an expert markswoman highly trained in hand-to-hand combat.

In the meantime, she was also working with the other agents in the Secret Service in ascertaining the threat to the President. The shooter had not been caught – he had escaped in the chaos after the former Deputy Director was shot, and the team had been going through witness accounts, all cellphone videos and street cameras but as of now, there was very little go on on.

And the President wasn't pleased but no one could blame him for that.

She knew little about the former Deputy Director, but Tucker had told her that he was actually a close friend of President Barba, and upon hearing that, she felt chastened for her self-righteous reprimanding of the President on her first day.

But what was past was past, and she needed to focus on her job at the meantime, and she had a daunting task ahead of her.

President Barba had decided that he would take a weekend trip to the Bronx, to visit Eddie Garcia's family. Director Tucker and the rest of the team had objected fervently but Barba was insistent, it was something he had to do.

"I trust Benson and the team to protect me," he said calmly, as Tucker's face reddened in frustration.

"Mr. President, excuse my bluntness, but this is foolhardy behaviour," Tucker said hotly.

"You forget your place, Director," Barba said coldly, his green eyes flashing angrily.

"Director," Olivia interrupted, taking a step forward. "I believe the President's short trip is doable. We need to keep it as a covert operation, with a small team to accompany him. I will take the lead."

Tucker practically growled under his breath as he glared. "Benson, I have your word on this – and if anything, anything happens – you are solely responsible, you alone."

"Why, Director, that is supremely magnanimous behaviour," Barba drawled sarcastically. "I haven't even left Washington and you're already throwing your deputy under the bus."

Tucker flushed. "Sir, let it go on record that the Secret Service did not deem this trip to be safe."

"Let it go on your record, then," Barba waved his hand impatiently. "Now, can I trust my Director to at least sit down and plan this with Benson, or are you removing yourself completely?"

Tucker shot Olivia a cold glare as he took his seat beside her. Olivia, on her part, coolly powered up her laptop, and motioned Carisi and Amaro to join them as they mapped out President's Barba route to the Bronx.

It was late evening by the time they finished the plan. Tucker stood up, giving Barba a forced handshake and took his leave.

Amaro and Carisi then left to secure the premises and to bring around the presidential state car, for Barba had to attend a state dinner that evening.

"Sir, anytime you're ready to go," Olivia strapped in her ankle holster, and straightened to twist her long hair into a bun.

Barba sighed audibly, and tilted his head to look at her. "Care to join me for a drink, Benson?" He asked, reaching for a bottle of scotch on a polished oak dresser near his desk.

She shook her head. "I'm not supposed to, Sir."

"Such a stickler for rules," he said, a teasing tone to his voice, as he uncorked the bottle and poured himself a small glass.

Olivia touched her earpiece and spoke rapidly. "Carisi, Amaro, the President is taking a five-minute breather before leaving for the state dinner. Take note of that, bring the car around in exactly ten minutes."

She stood there, waiting, as Barba sipped his scotch, lost in his own thoughts for a while. "You know, I am honestly very surprised," he spoke up, breaking the silence between them.

"Sir?" She asked.

"I thought you'll be just like Tucker, and tell how it's unsafe, unwise…and forbidding me to go to the Bronx."

"Sir, it's hardly my place to forbid the President to do anything," she said, the corner of her mouth lifting in a smile. "But it is my job to ensure the President's safety, no matter the circumstances, after all, I am solely responsible for this trip of yours," she smirked, mimicking the tone of Tucker.

He laughed then, and with a jolt, Olivia realised that this was the first time she had heard him truly laughed. His face softened, and he looked less severe, less stern – and suddenly, she realised why people had deemed him to be one of the most attractive Presidents ever to hold office.

He was actually really, really good-looking.

Snap out of it, Liv, she scolded herself. Be professional!

And honestly, she was hardly at the age (or the situation) to be developing inappropriate school-girl crushes, for god's sake.

Barba finished his scotch and put down the glass, reaching for his suit jacket. "Well, I just want to say a very appreciative thank you to you, Benson."

She nodded in acknowledgement, leading the way as she opened the door and they both exited the Oval Office together.

"This is a highly important trip to me," he said, almost to himself, and she looked back at him to see a melancholic, sad expression on his face.

Her heart gave the tiniest tumble and immediately, Olivia squashed it.

It was just the whole novelty of actually working with, and protecting the President of the United States – who just so happened to be a single, and a very attractive man.

Olivia Benson was a grown woman, and the Deputy Director of the Secret Service, and a consummate professional who was excellent at what she did.

Nothing more, and nothing less.

to be continued

Note: this is a totally random idea that popped into my head after seeing the tweet – so I decided to run with it. I have the story mapped out in my head so I am not planning to drag this out for too long but let's see where I go with it!

I'm not American so I took a lot of liberty with the President's staff and how Secret Service works (did quick preliminary research only) – but hey, it's a fanfiction after all…?

Also – I know it's totally random how I stuffed SVU characters into random roles…but it's kinda fun? Haha.

Reviews/comments are love, especially for something as weird as this!