Rewatching S5E15 and it makes me so giddy everytime Casey catches the whole birthstone/class ring inconsistencies with the girls. Makes me extra giddy to know that me and Casey share a birthday month 😂😂😂
Rewatching S5E15 and it makes me so giddy everytime Casey catches the whole birthstone/class ring inconsistencies with the girls. Makes me extra giddy to know that me and Casey share a birthday month 😂😂😂
Ok so ima go on a hazbin rant (specifically new episodes of season 2 spoilers 5+6)
I’ve seen a lot of people talking about the Vees, and of Huskerdust and everything around those guys, but I have yet to see anyone talk about Carmilla Carmine…
What is her deal?!? Like I completely understand her siding with Vox, becuz let’s be honest, if she didn’t he would’ve most likely gone after her daughters (and he knows she’d do anything for them) she’s very much not happy about this arraignment at all. We get a shot of this chain??? When she’s talking about someone she has lost before?!? She knows what heaven is like, enough to trigger Vaggie’s ptsd (even if it isn’t on purpose, just enough to make her think about her own goals)?!?! I want to know so much more about Carmilla Carmine and who she is, and her back story. (Also Vox had no right to be saying “Voxtech loves women in stem”)
I need to be able to talk with people about this. (Also we seem to be brushing over Rosie and her character/backstory as well)
Just had a fic idea, anyone please take it and run with it.
Basically either Alex or Casey/reader fic where reader is a dispatcher, and they are the dispatcher to receive some sorta of call from the courthouse about a hostage situation or something (literally anything!) and so she’s freaking out worried out of her wits but having to stay calm… some angst some fear, ultimately happy (or happy enough) ending.
Literally just thought of this while falling asleep lol
Just had a fic idea, anyone please take it and run with it.
Basically either Alex or Casey/reader fic where reader is a dispatcher, and they are the dispatcher to receive some sorta of call from the courthouse about a hostage situation or something (literally anything!) and so she’s freaking out worried out of her wits but having to stay calm… some angst some fear, ultimately happy (or happy enough) ending.
Literally just thought of this while falling asleep lol
...tried my hand at x reader writing. requested by @hocuspocusbabyy . i don't have much to say for myself.
4.3k words. casey has been working as a paralegal under you, an attorney at a law firm, while on suspension- but her suspension's almost up, and you know what that means. it's killing you that she hasn't acknowledged it.
abandonment issues leads to making out and probably something else.
“What did you just call me?” Your eyes shot up, and you clicked your tongue disapprovingly, head jolting quickly to the side as you eyed up your paralegal.
“Cute,” Casey responded easily, lounged back in her chair at the desk that you had arranged for her- the prosecutor she’d begun paralegaling for since the beginning of her suspension- chopsticks held idly in her hand.
“Not in a bad way, you’re not at all incompetent, but in a sweet little… you know, that kind of way.”
You wrinkled your nose at her, one side of your lip twitching up at the side. “That’s quite an unprofessional thing to say, Novak. I’m your boss.”
“In the way that I’m on your payroll,” Casey snorted, twirling her chopsticks around in the box you had made the mistake of bringing her smug ass, as though your disdain did not bother her in the slightest. “We both know that I-”
“I don't need to hear this from my paralegal.” You snapped, and her eyes went wide, and you regretted it the second you said it. You knew she was more mature than you were because although the air around her flipped, dramatically, suddenly, all she did was raise her eyebrows and stare straight at you until you- hell, you, not her- couldn't take it anymore.
You brushed nothing off your pencil skirt and spun on your heel, marching out of the office you had set up for her and your secretary before slamming the door behind you.
It was infuriating because she was always like that. She was smug and she was far more experienced than you were and you both knew that and it ate you up inside.
It ate you up because unlike your secretary, and the other paralegal you’d had before, and the one who would later replace Casey when she inevitably left, Casey did not need you at all. She was bigger and she was someone you couldn't offer an office and a stable life and expect to fucking stay.
Her suspension was almost up and instead of acknowledging that she was offering up her notes the way she had been for the past months and making the same sort of idle banter as if nothing was going to change when it all was. You were being unprofessional but fuck it. She’d been the one to apply for a position you didn't even have open.
And she kept doing that. She kept- she kept making your stomach flutter in that annoying way. You were an attorney, for God's fucking sake, one of the top in this goddamn firm, and still, you felt so little compared to her.
You went back to your own office to pout.
You still remembered her just- showing up. You’d been working alongside Mary Clark, a woman who’d risen the ranks in a private law firm very quickly, when the faux blonde appeared with her perfectly curled hair and bags under her eyes from a lack of rest. She’d requested to see Ms. Clark who hadn't been in- you’d assumed she was a client, or something like that. She didn't leave at the knowledge Ms. Clark wasn't there. She waited in the lounge, staring idly out the window while the other people in patience tapped away on expensive phones in their tailored suits.
There was something about her that caught your eye. You’d seen her in headlines before. Not her name specifically, but her picture on the stories that made the front page of the newspapers. It had been one of the days when the paralegal you had had at the time wasn't achieving her due diligence, so you did more running around then you’d have preferred too.
As you paced around the building, passing by the couches that made up the ritzy lounge, you’d realized whenever you glanced in her direction, she’d already be looking back. You averted your eyes immediately, shyly, with no real reason too. She was a client or had some sort of relation with Ms. Clark, who at that time, had been somewhat of a friend to you- a mentor.
She was absolutely striking. Green eyes like a hawk’s. Hair perfectly maintained, even the lines that showed her mild exhaustion and age somehow seemed as though they’d been sculpted into marble by a masterful Roman back when the greats were so enraptured. The blouse she wore was unbuttoned a bit more than you’d ever trust to wear. You tried not to glance down when you strutted past for the fifth time, files caught between the briefcase you had pressed to your side.
“You’re far too young to look that frazzled,” she’d said, the first thing you had ever heard in that deliciously raspy voice that immediately made you want to hear far more from her.
She was leaning against one of the pillars, apparently having grown bored of sitting on one of the leather couches. The rotation of people in the lounge was quick, and she’d been waiting for the longest time by far. None of the others who adorned the couches that cost more than many people’s monthly salaries were the same as those who’d been there when she’d first arrived.
You’d wanted to grumble back that if you had decent help, you wouldn't need to do as much busywork, but you kept your mouth shut with such whining.
“You look far too interesting to be waiting this long,” you said instead. She chuffed, crossing her arms with a subtle smirk. Your mouth went dry. You liked the sound she made in her amusement, you liked it a little too much.
“Who are you waiting for?”
“Mary Clark. A friend of mine.”
You opened your mouth, and then closed it again. You didn't want the brief interaction to end, for some reason. She was too captivating to slip through your fingers so randomly. You summoned whatever courage you had, the type you only used in the courtroom, and smiled back at her boldly.
“If she’s your friend, you may as well tell her you’ll be waiting in my office. More comfortable than waiting even longer here.”
She smiled as if she’d won something. It made your heart pulse awkwardly, the way she seemed so smug when you were the one who’d managed to get an audience with her.
It had spiraled quite quickly from there. You’d spoken for a while about random topics, dancing around the more important ones, as if there was no rush to get there. As if you’d speak again.
You’d sighed, finally, and remembered you'd need to go over to where your paralegal was stationed and request the notations on the court cases you’d asked for. The woman you’d come to know as Casey raised an eyebrow, asking why they couldn't simply be delivered to you. She said running around was a waste of talent, when there was someone less busy who should be doing it for you. You’d jokingly asked her if that was an offer. She’d accepted.
Casey had wandered back out, finally, when Mary Clark finally appeared to take her, and you’d said goodbye with a wave and a job offer.
Her first day, she’d cleared five times as much work as anyone you’d had before her.
She was just that type of person, you supposed. She needed something to do constantly. She didn't like feeling as though there was something to do that she wasn't doing.
And the free times she had, she always came to perch herself in your office and disguise her attempt to find some way to make herself useful through chatter.
That's why you’d started the habit of bringing her food. She’d procrastinate on eating if she felt like there was something more important to do. You’d started eating Chinese significantly far more often since she started working, once you'd deduced it was her favorite. You’d get something for yourself and then ponder for far too long over what you should bring her.
You knew her licence had been suspended, of course. She had been a formidable lawyer until she’d driven herself across the line trying to protect people she couldn't.
It didn't surprise you that she worked so ridiculously hard because of that. In the beginning you were sure she was just trying to prove herself in some sort of way to someone who didn't particularly need her to be proven to them- you liked her too much, and your last paralegal had been incompetent enough regardless- but she never stopped working at that pace. Perhaps she was trying to prove herself to her.
That's why you were so sure she would leave at the first opportunity she had to do so. Spread the wings that had been clipped by the temporary suspension and sore back up to somewhere else where she’d belong. Even with your constant pay raises and the fact you supplemented her salary with your own- she didn't know that, but you did- there was no doubt Casey Novak was destined to be on her own in the courtroom with her sharp eyes and sharper tongue. She was going to leave.
It wasn't a betrayal. It wasn't anything. A natural progression. She’d used the job you’d given her to fill the time and her mind until she could return to where she wanted to be, and where she was honestly supposed to be. You couldn't keep her. She hadn't ever been yours.
You tried not to pout about it for too long. You tried your best to lecture yourself that this was how it was always going to go. No matter the salary or the benefits or how easy and light the conversation flowed when she stopped by your office, she was going to go back to practice herself.
But still. But still.
It made your heart hurt. Seeing her every morning was routine. Her laughter rang in your ears because you'd been graced with the ability to hear it daily. Her smile was etched into your eyelids when you closed them, the one she flashed you right as she left your office or right when she came in.
You wouldn't get to have that anymore. Her, anymore.
A knock on your door jolted you out of your thoughts and you looked up dead-eyed from where your head had been held in your hands- a position you hadn't realized you were in.
“Come in,” you called out with little enthusiasm. You blinked, energy seeping back in once Casey’s face appeared in the doorway.
She tilted her head sympathetically. “I’m sorry for calling you cute,” she said, even as a smile resided in her voice, “I wasn't thinking about how you might interpret that. It was hard when I was younger and people would underestimate me based on gender and age. I wasn't thinking about it like that.”
You waved your hand dismissively. “It wasn't about that,” You muttered, although you immediately regretted it, because of course she’d want to follow it up. “I don't care,” you finished, as if that would help.
You turned your head back down to papers in front of you as if you were working. You weren't. She knew. Of course, Casey would know. She was too damn observant. Too fucking attentive. You might go insane.
Casey sauntered towards the front of your desk, placing her hands on it and pitching herself forward, but although the most you could see was her hair flowing down towards the desk in the spirals she kept it in, you didn't look up. You couldn't meet her eyes.
“Hey…” She murmured. “Is something wrong?”
You still refused to meet her eyes.
Heels clicked on the floor. You snorted to yourself, wondering if that meant she was pacing or leaving. Before you could linger any further on the thought of her absence, you felt the chair you were sitting in abruptly be yanked backwards and spun, and then Casey was leaning forward so slowly she may as well have crept into your lap to make eye contact with you.
“I don't appreciate being ignored,” she said seriously, her raspy voice low. “You’ll tell me what’s wrong or you’ll at the very least tell me to come back later.”
Come back later. God, you wanted her to come back every day. But you didn't want her to come over the next few weeks, not when you knew that at some point she’d be bringing her three weeks notice along with the polished notes written in her neat yet crammed handwriting in the blue pen she had stolen off of your best.
You opened your mouth and closed it again. You inhaled sharply through your nose. All you could smell was her perfume. She was so close, too close when your nerves had already been high.
The words wouldn't come. You couldn't turn your head- you couldn't face her. Not when you felt so utterly pathetic about her leaving you. It was embarrassing and it was odd and unprofessional and everything against what you prided yourself being. You didn't need anyone but fuck all if you didn't really want her.
You cleared your throat. It sounded forced because it was. You pressed back against the backrest of her chair, teeth grit, stiff. You didn't know what to do with her right now.
“Like I said, Novak,”- you watched spine stiffen at the use of her last name, which you usually only used in official use or in banter, never in casual conversation between the two of you- “I don't care. Doesn't matter.”
Your jaw was clenched and as you watched her’s did too. She intentionally relaxed herself, exhaling deeply, as if she was deciding to be patient with you or grow cross with your decision to alienate her from whatever struggle you were finding yourself in.
The former won, apparently. Her eyes, those piercing green, went soft. She looked sympathetic, regardless of the fact she didn't yet know the cause.
Casey cupped her hands- larger than yours, not smooth and not rough, warm but only just barely- around your cheeks and turned your head manually to face her. Her eyes, which had been displaying a mild frustration, softened when you glanced up at her wide-eyed.
“Is it something to do with your cases?” Casey asked, her voice solemn and with a level of patience that made it obvious she was manifesting it, ever work oriented in a way that made you huff internally. “Is a client stressing you? A victim? Prosecutor?”
You shook your head slowly.
“Work in general? Is there something I should be doing?” She murmured, studying your expression. You shook your head again. If you weren't so emotionally overwhelmed you'd have snorted at her immediate tendency to try to overcompensate by working.
“Is it something about your family?” She asked softly, and you’d forgotten that you'd mentioned that to her once. You shook your head again. You wanted to hit her and call her an idiot. You wondered if she’d go through the whole list before realizing it was her.
She pouted, her bottom lip poking out just barely. Just enough to remind you that you’d spoken about how you're a sucker for her pout, back when the thought of her leaving her position by your side hadn't ever crossed your mind, and everything had been easy.
She said your name softly. She repeated it louder, a second time, when you continued to sit there like an idiot.
Tears you didn't quite understand welled up in your eyes the longer her focus was so fixated on you. You wanted to wave her away but you didn't want her to leave. She sighed when she noticed the way your eyes had gone glassy, running her thumbs gently just below your eyes as though she could soothe the water back inside.
“Is it okay that I’m holding you?” She ventured finally. Reluctantly, almost, as though she didn't want to let you go and wasn't prepared for you to shake your head again. Her expression soothed back over when you nodded. You liked that she was.
She was so close and felt so far away. You wrapped your arms around her shoulders as though she were about to evaporate.
“I don't want you to leave,” You blurted out suddenly, muffled by her palms squishing your cheeks together as she toyed lightly with your face.
You felt her exhale. She let go of your face, hands hesitating, fingers curling just slightly as they trembled near the sides of your face because she didn't know what to do with you like this.
A moment went by when neither of you spoke, and the only sound you could hear was her subtle breathing in your suddenly abysmally quiet office.
“Is that what all these tears are for?” Casey breathed finally, her emotion vague. You wanted to be rigid and declare to her that although your eyes had watered nothing had fallen down your cheeks, so it didn't count as tears yet. Not crying. You could've blamed it on a dust allergy if you weren't so obvious. “Really? You’re crying over me?”
“Don't call me stupid,” You got defensive immediately, pressing your hands to your face to scrub the evidence of tears away.
“I’m not calling you stupid.” Her voice was gentle, soothing, although there was an undertone in her voice you couldn't quite catch. “I’m just surprised, is all. I didn't know you liked me all that much.”
You sighed. You felt decent enough now. The emotional epitome had been overcome, at least for right now. You guided her backwards with gentle hands on her shoulders and you swung one leg over the other, brushing your hair back into place.
“It's unprofessional,” you muttered. “You don't have to scold me about that. I just- I … I know you're going to put your papers in soon and I’m starting to miss you preemptively. You're … a good worker. Don't want to figure out how to revert to how it was before you worked for me.”
There. Spin it back around to work. A decent enough attempt, as Casey was extremely work oriented herself. You glanced back at your papers as though you had ever meant to focus on them instead of on her.
She went quiet. Didn't believe you, apparently. You knew she’d be smart enough to know there must be something else but she was also self critical enough that you’d hoped she’d assume it was some other underlying issue, not anything to do with you having feelings for her that you couldn't have- not when she was on your salary.
Casey sighed. Her eyes looked more amused, suddenly, than you were all that comfortable with. She looked as though she were about to scoff.
“You’re so adamant about the opposite,” she said slowly, “But I swear, you’re so cute.”
“Casey,” you sighed, shifting uncomfortably in your chair. You weren't sure you could handle her teasing you right now. You felt your brow furrow, your eyes shifting back over to the paperwork on the desk, the clock on the wall, anywhere so you wouldn't need to look at her face when she started to laugh at you.
“My papers are in my office,” she said slowly, her voice soft. “My resignation papers. I filled them out yesterday.”
“Oh,” you said, because that's all you could say. Your voice sounded hoarse. You cleared your throat awkwardly and looked away, blinking twice.
‘Okay’, you should say, ‘It was wonderful having you here. On-board the next person I find, if I find one soon enough. Have a nice life, Casey. Don't forget me’.
That's what you should say. Probably less than that, not the last part. Goodbyes were too soon because she was going to work for you for a last three weeks after putting her papers in. You had to sit through three weeks of feeling like this, like she was about to- what, evaporate? Worse than that.
You might run into her at courtrooms and pretend as though in this moment you weren't sitting here feeling like your heart had been ripped out of your body through your throat.
Deciding to focus on swallowing back the vomit on words you wanted to spit out was the best idea. Your eyelids fluttered shut and you took a deep breath that felt cold and not as soothing as you needed it to be.
Her hands were cupping your jaw again, lower than they had been earlier, her fingertips curling to the sensitive skin where your ear met your neck. With your eyes closed, you tried to relax into the feeling of it, although your spine was still unbelievably rigid.
You only opened your eyes when you felt her breathing on your face. She was close, so close, centimeters away from you, and staring at you with an emotion you couldn't navigate.
“I didn't want you to risk your reputation, having … something with an employee of yours,” Casey said in a hushed tone, her voice thick and smooth and utterly enrapturing, like a siren’s call. You couldn't swallow, your throat choked.
Her words were bold. Her eyes weren't. Soft, like molten honey, gentle, unbelievably tentative. She was nervous. You found the vulnerability you'd accidentally exposed to her reflected- her own, though.
“You pride yourself on professionalism- or at least you tell that to me all the time- I wouldn't do that to you.” She was hesitant, filling the heavy and tense silence with words, but with a voice like her’s you wouldn't ever complain. Your eyes shook as they tried to hold contact with her own, but she glanced away, thumbing a stray hair back into place behind your ear softly.
Casey bit her lip the way she always did when she was in thought, or anxious. It made your heart pulse- not uncomfortably, but with emphasis. You couldn't help staring at her lips for a second longer than you should’ve and you know that she noticed.
“But if I don't work for you anymore…” She ventured, softly, “Then there wouldn't be … then I could … hold you, like I’ve wanted to.”
“You’ve wanted to?” Your voice was hoarse, shaking slightly, and it cracked at the end. Barely above a whisper but she smiled as though the sound was something unbelievably special to her.
“Yes,” She breathed, and you could feel the word on your lips with how close her’s were.
Casey stilled, and you hadn't been moving, but you felt yourself freeze regardless too. Her eyes slid down to your lips and she readjusted her hold on your face, one hand smoothing down over your neck to cup around the side of your collar.
Her eyes asked if she was allowed to have this- if she could do this- if you wanted this as much as she did- when she looked up again. Her eyes were clear with the confidence she held within her but still so soft, so gentle towards you. You nodded once, trying not to come off as overeager, but you felt a small series of smaller nods from adrenaline that had begun to coax through your veins regardless.
Her face shifted into a smug smile, her eyelids lowering to make a siren’s shape of her eyes, and you gasped when she moved.
The hand that was on your collar slipped down to circle your waist, and the one that had been positioned around your jaw slipped under one arm, and with little difficulty she hoisted you up in a fluid movement to sit you down on your own desk, brushing papers out of the way that fluttered uselessly down to the floor. Neither of you noticed. Her face was still so ridiculously close.
Casey’s hands were warm when they slipped down to circle your waist. Grounding, gentle, but firm as they pressed. You made a small sound in your throat that she chuffed at.
Her lips were unbelievably soft. Her kiss was slow and smooth and hesitant at first when she was finding her way, but quickly divulged into heady and consuming once she found it.
She groaned into your mouth, a small low sound, when your thighs had tightened inadvertently around her hips. You hadn't realized you had done so, but you couldn't complain, not when she made a sound like that. You wanted to hear more of it.
“Everyday,” she whispered between kisses, as her fingers crept lower to press against your hips and the sensitive part of your abdomen, “I could have you like this- once I wouldn't be a threat to your reputation- every damn day.”
You scoffed. Wrapped your arms around her shoulders and leaned back, forcing her closer, to bend along the arch of her spine to the desk surface.
“You keep telling me you think I’m cute,” You pressed a kiss to the side of her jaw and nipped at the lobe of her ear and relished in the sharp little sound she made in response, her eyelashes fluttering, “And I think you’re an idiot, Casey,-”
You kissed her for the sake of emphasis, for the sake that you could now, that she was yours as much as you had been her’s for so many days wasted without those lips attached to your collarbones.
“I’d have risked whatever drop in reputation this would've been every ‘damn’ day of every fucking week you’ve been here for.”
Her throat bobbed when she forced a swallow, her lips falling open and staying parted, and she closed her eyes just to breathe, as though being this close to you was making her breathless.
When she opened her eyes again, there was a hunger in them, primal and deep and with a driving force of need behind them.
“Are we waiting until my resignation is official,-” she murmured, voice thick and raspy with a tone that made a heat rise in your face and in your lower stomach, “-or can I take you home tonight?”
Sneak peek? Peek the Sneak? Peek is a sneak? Sneaking is very peek?
Anywho Calex -
They didn’t know how much time they had; though it wasn’t long. Casey couldn’t help but yearn for the wasted hours. Tracing each other’s outlines, converting happenings to wishes. Committing dreaming to memory. Freckled arms looped back and behind Alex’s neck, the blonde’s hips pressing firmly against her as they swayed, clad in university sweats, jerseys, and blood-stained power suits.
Casey had changed Alex’s bandage when they arrived, picking her up from the office where Alex had packed alone. A hotel on the outskirts of Manhattan waiting for her ride. Destination unknown. Future undetermined.
It could be years, and the thought alone made Alex feel deathly ill, her chin resting on Casey’s jaw, claw-clipped hair brushing Casey’s shoulder, metal teeth grazing flesh with every turn of Casey’s neck.
“This is not the last time we will see each other,” Alex promised, her mouth hot against Casey’s ear, risking the blush of her skin against her lips. Her eyes fell heavy, Casey’s back flush to her chest, her knees softening toward the ground. “However, it may be the last time I am greeted with this.”
A sigh, and Alex’s hand crept around Casey’s throat, pulling them closer.
“I can wait.” Casey vowed, red curls pushing into Alex’s view, the scent of vanilla clinging to her shoulders. Alex buried her face in Casey’s hair, fingers scratching at the roots.
“I would never wish such purgatory on you.” Alex sighed, kissing the shell of Casey’s ear.
“It’s nice, knowing you care.” Casey tilted her head, baring her neck. Alex skimmed her lips along it, as though tracing the shape of her.
“I can’t promise the better parts of me after this. I am temperamental at best.” The blonde scolded, her fingers circling the redheads pulse, sucking it lightly between her teeth before pulling back. The redheads own hands griping her’s, Alex smirked, a slow dip beginning in the other woman’s pose. “I don’t wish to know myself again, without you.” Alex confessed, finally leaning over and kissing the notch of Casey’s collarbone.
Casey panted, hand grasping the windowsill, the other tangling in Alex’s hair, tugging her head back, switching their gaze. Frowning over her shoulder, she whispered:
“The worst parts of you, are the very best of me.” She turned, gently kissing Alex’s cheek as the blonde’s hands traced the freckles on her arms, down to her fingertips. “Don’t let these labors change how you feel about me. How I feel about you. I couldn’t bear it, Alexandra. There is not a moment of you unglorified by me.”
“I fear I must love you,” Alex admitted, a brief ache crossing her face. Her hands rose to frame Casey’s cheeks. “And I curse those who allowed me to, because I will never be the same.”
“Allow me this,” Casey begged, brushing her thumb against the hair at Alex’s nape.
Their chins pressed together as Alex grabbed a handful of Casey’s hip, pressing her against the cold window. Casey shivered at the condensation as her shirt stuck to the glass, thigh rising to wrap around Alex’s waist. Alex gasped against her lips, each breath an argument.
“Tell me,” Alex smirked against her, hand cupping under Casey’s jaw. Her fingers felt the heat blooming beneath Casey’s cool skin, pressing dents into her flesh.
Casey moaned softly as Alex tightened her grip on her ass, then paused, their bottom lips grazing, tongues briefly soothing frustration.
“Tell me,” Alex whispered again, giggling softly as Casey’s body swayed, lips just shy of touching. Casey whined, frowning.
They didn’t have time. Alex was leaving.
“In fear of misinterpretation,” Alex breathed, pressing their foreheads together, each word painted onto Casey’s mouth. “Tell me, baby.”
“Kiss—” Casey gasped, Alex’s lips plucking at the edge of hers. “Kiss me.”
A knock at the door.
Silence.
Alex startled turning sharply to answer, but Casey grabbed her hand.
Was this it? Her final ride out of town? Her lost conscious choice before she disappeared again. Her body was stiff, glaring at the door, her fist curved to her thigh.
“Wait—they can wait.” She almost begged, blurting the curse out before she’d even processed she’d moved. “A moment longer, please.” Casey asked, lifting the shaking palm to her lips, kissing across the crossed flesh beneath each of her knuckles.
Alex paused, her thumb curling against the other woman’s bottom lip. Pulling its dampness across her lip. Casey simply kissed its pad. Her fist encircled the thumb as she spoke. As if in prayer her head down cast, they hands enclosed. “Please, don’t make this harder.” Her mouth fell against the redheads crown, whispering to her flesh, the scent of vanilla softened her “I don’t want this to end.”
“Then it won’t.” Casey rose to her, slowly pushing the blonde back with each brush of her hips. Backing them against the frosted glass. Between the bathroom and kitchen. The heavy shadow of an agent
“Tell them to go away,” she whispered, kissing Alex’s temple, fingers trailing along her hairline and the sharpness of her cheekbones. “Let me take care of you.”
Alex’s mouth felt dry. Her arms lifted, sliding around Casey’s shoulders, pressing close.
“Okay?” Casey’s lips found the dip of Alex’s chest, licking up to her jaw, nipping at her earlobe.
“Okay,” Alex hummed, letting her weight fall forward against Casey.
“You’ll have to help me, baby,” Casey whispered, kissing the spot where Alex’s sweatshirt slipped off her shoulder, her hand sliding beneath to graze the pale skin of her chest, teasing until Alex heaved into her palm. “I’ve only ever imagined what you’d like.” Her tongue traced Alex’s ear. “You’ll have to guide me. Tell me what feels good.”
Her fingers curled around Alex’s breast, pulling her closer, pressing her against the door as Casey groaned at the connection.
“Can you do that for me?”
Her shoulder burned. Alex let out a shuddering breath, forehead pressed against Casey’s, their lips brushing, the world outside the door irrelevant, the future unknown, as she whispered:
So I decided to show my grandma SVU (surprised she hadn’t already seen it) and so for the past six months she’s been slowly making her way through it. She really liked Alex Cabot… I’m not going to tell her. I’ll let her be surprised. (Also I’m slowly and surely getting her on the cabenson train)
Talking about SVU with my mom, trying to brainstorm how we’d get Donnelly back into an episode… and while we’re talking throw Casey in too. And she was like “what if Casey was a defense attorney..” and I’m thinking hell no she’d never go to the dark side and then she continued “and was Alex’s defense counsel for her trail with Alex vigilanty stuff, and somehow throw Donnelly in there” any ways I desperately need someone to write this
whenever people talk about if Casey would ever become a defense attorney, they forget that her mentor in season 5 is part of a large law corporation, and the series exaggerates how "bad" defense attorneys are (obv, because propaganda) I don't think Casey taking a role in Mary Clark's firm and just making the switch to defense would be that wild of a thought, especially after how much she's sympathized with certain defendants
EXACTLY!!! Also what @peonies-writes said in the comments!
ESP after her suspension & her attitude when she came back/the shit cases she was handed. Casey has also been known to purpousely lose cases/play them a certain way to find a loophole for them to be mistrials or similar.
I personally see her working as an advocate for those with mental disorders and in the cases where for example a wife killed her abusive husband even though there was no legal evidence of it (i just woke up so i cant formulate my words properly, esp legal ones LOL)
Defence work is so much more than criminal (this man is an asshole & murdered three people in cold blood) defence work lol. I can definitely see casey shifting in that direction in her later years.
Honestly i see all of our adas except carisi shifting in that direction lol
Talking about SVU with my mom, trying to brainstorm how we’d get Donnelly back into an episode… and while we’re talking throw Casey in too. And she was like “what if Casey was a defense attorney..” and I’m thinking hell no she’d never go to the dark side and then she continued “and was Alex’s defense counsel for her trail with Alex vigilanty stuff, and somehow throw Donnelly in there” any ways I desperately need someone to write this
Stale. Too cold. Too dry. Too full of recycled breath and old metal. The kind of air that clung to your clothes and sat heavy in your throat, no matter how many times you swallowed.
Overhead, fluorescent lights buzzed faintly. Somewhere in the distance, keys clanked against a belt. A voice shouted, angry and hoarse. Another door slammed shut.
Casey followed silently as security led her through a checkpoint.
Then another.
And another.
Each gate scraped open with the sound of surrender. Steel grinding against steel. No warmth, just cold, mechanical clearance.
She’d worn black. Clean lines and tailored lapels. Hair pulled back so tightly it gave her a headache. She looked like she belonged. There was no room for softness in this place.
Not today.
They brought Alex in shackled.
Casey looked up at the sound of chains. The familiar clatter of restraint, amplified in this space—belly chain, cuffs, ankle restraints that forced Alex to take short, stiff steps across the concrete floor.
Her scrubs were standard-issue gray—the color of fog, of ash, of institutional nothingness. The kind of color designed to make a person disappear into their surroundings. They hung off her like they didn’t belong to her. Like she didn’t belong to herself. The fabric sagged at the shoulders, bunched awkwardly at the knees. She looked thinner than she should’ve been. Like time and silence had worn her down to something smaller.
Under the harsh light, her skin had taken on a sickly pallor. Pale, almost bluish at the edges, as if the color had drained out of her days ago. Her lips were cracked. Her jaw was tight. Every inch of her posture screamed restraint, not the kind forced on her by the cuffs, but the kind she’d forced on herself. As if keeping still was the only control she had left.
Her wrists were the worst. Red and raw where the cuffs had bitten in. Angry half-moon welts dug deep into the skin. Some fresh, some faded. All of them unmistakably earned. Not delicate bruises. Not accidents. Evidence.
She didn’t stumble. Didn’t drag her feet. But she wasn’t standing tall either. Her shoulders had dropped just enough for Casey to see the crack in her posture.
Casey stood as she was led into the interview room.
It was small. Bleak. Just a table, two metal chairs bolted to the floor, and bars on all sides. No walls. No glass. No privacy. Surveillance cameras blinked silently from the corners.
They were being watched.
Alex stopped just inside the gate. Her eyes landed on Casey. She went still.
“You have got to be kidding me,” she said, voice dry and scraped thin.
Casey didn’t flinch. She just gestured to the chair across from her. “Sit.”
The guard unlocked the restraints without ceremony. A twist of the key. A clatter of chains. No acknowledgment, no expression. Just routine.
Then he stepped back out through the gate, and locked it behind him.
Alex didn’t move for a second. Just stood there, rubbing one wrist absently like it might make a difference.
Then she crossed to the chair, slow and stiff, and sank down across from Casey.
The chair creaked under her weight.
She leaned back slightly, eyes narrowing. Her tone was clipped. Controlled. “What the hell are you doing here?”
Casey shrugged, calm as anything. “Thought I’d check in. I heard you’re starring in your very own criminal indictment.”
“I didn’t ask for a visit,” Alex snapped. “And I sure as hell didn’t ask for you.”
“Well,” Casey said coolly, setting her folders down and sliding into her own chair, “you’re getting me anyway.”
She opened the folder with a flick of her thumb. Legal paper. Printed indictments. Notes scribbled in pen.
“Because your arraignment was a train wreck. You pled not guilty and waived counsel. And unless your plan is to rot in here for the next six months while the government builds their case, you’re going to need someone who knows what they’re doing.”
Alex’s jaw tightened. Her voice dropped. “I’m not accepting a court-appointed attorney.”
“You weren’t offered one,” Casey replied, flipping a page. “You waived counsel. On record. That’s cute. But you’re not going to win this by glaring everyone into submission.”
Alex’s eyes snapped up. “Don’t patronize me.”
“I’m not,” Casey said, tone even. “I’m trying to keep you out of prison.”
Alex let out a breath that might’ve been a laugh if there had been anything left to laugh about, dry and brittle, scraping the back of her throat.
“You think you can get me off,” she said, “on two counts of felony kidnapping and a federal conspiracy enhancement?”
“Three counts,” she corrected, calmly flipping another page in the folder, the rustle of paper loud in the quiet.
“The DA amended the complaint this morning.”
She let the words settle before continuing.
“They’re stacking charges—false imprisonment, custodial interference, obstruction, and fraud for every fake ID you allegedly helped generate.”
Another beat. Casey looked up.
Her gaze was steady. Measured. She didn’t raise her voice. Didn’t press.
“And unless I miss my guess,” she added quietly, “they’re laying groundwork for a RICO predicate.”
Alex didn’t respond.
She didn’t breathe, for a second too long.
Just sat there—thin and silent in a gray jumpsuit, in a gray room, behind steel bars—with the weight of it all finally starting to settle in her bones.
“I’m not here to rehash history,” Casey said. “I’m here because what you did—disappearing women and children, operating off the grid, helping them vanish—you’re not just up against the Manhattan DA’s Office.”
She leaned forward, voice low.
“The U.S. Attorney wants in. The Bureau is circling. You’re staring down a joint prosecution. State and federal.”
Across the table, Alex’s shoulders tensed. Her eyes stayed locked on Casey, sharp and blazing, but her voice was quieter now.
“They were in danger,” she said. “I did what I had to do.”
“I know,” Casey replied. “But you’ll never convince a jury of that if you keep playing martyr.”
Alex said nothing. Just studied her.
There was no mockery in Casey’s tone. No judgment. Just something steady. The kind of quiet confidence Alex hadn’t remembered her having before. Not like this.
“I don’t need you,” Alex said. But the venom was gone. What was left sounded like wear.
“Sure you do.”
Casey reached back into her folder and drew out the retainer agreement.
She slid it across the table.
“They’re not just going to hang this on you,” she said. Calm. Measured. “They want precedent. They want blood. If they can prove you ran an unauthorized relocation network, every woman you helped becomes a potential witness.”
She paused.
“Or a co-conspirator.”
Alex’s eyes narrowed.
“You think they won’t subpoena them? You think they won’t dig through every single alias until they find someone scared enough—or vulnerable enough—to crack under pressure?”
“I did what I had to do,” she said again. But this time it wasn’t defiant. It was just quiet. Tired.
Casey nodded. Her voice softened.
“I know. And if you want even the faintest shot at convincing a jury of that… you need someone who isn’t afraid to touch this case. Someone who knows how the system works—and how it breaks.”
Alex’s mouth twisted. “You work for Mary Clark now.”
“I do. And I’m taking this pro bono.”
Alex blinked a couple times. “You’re offering me charity?”
Casey didn’t blink.
“I’m offering you representation,” she said. “And a shot at protecting the people you disappeared.”
The silence that followed wasn’t cold. It wasn’t combative. It was worse than that.
It was quiet. Tense like a wire about to snap.
“Defense work suits you,” Alex said eventually, voice flat and clipped like she was trying not to feel anything at all.
Casey didn’t flinch.
“My principles got me censured and tossed out of the DA’s Office,” she said. “This way, I get to help people who’ve been abandoned by the system.”
She held Alex’s gaze. “You should understand that.”
“I don’t need you,” Alex said. But even she didn’t sound convinced anymore.
Casey stood.
“You can sign it,” she said, gathering her folder, her pen. Her calm. “Or you can keep defending yourself from a jail cell.”
She heads for the door, pauses, and glances back.
Alex is still sitting there, quiet, shoulders hunched under the weight of it all.
Talking about SVU with my mom, trying to brainstorm how we’d get Donnelly back into an episode… and while we’re talking throw Casey in too. And she was like “what if Casey was a defense attorney..” and I’m thinking hell no she’d never go to the dark side and then she continued “and was Alex’s defense counsel for her trail with Alex vigilanty stuff, and somehow throw Donnelly in there” any ways I desperately need someone to write this
Talking about SVU with my mom, trying to brainstorm how we’d get Donnelly back into an episode… and while we’re talking throw Casey in too. And she was like “what if Casey was a defense attorney..” and I’m thinking hell no she’d never go to the dark side and then she continued “and was Alex’s defense counsel for her trail with Alex vigilanty stuff, and somehow throw Donnelly in there” any ways I desperately need someone to write this
So deep in the trenches that I feel like I have almost consumed all the content that fans have made 😭 I'm constantly looking here, twitter, Ao3, and TikTok for new melval/directorbird content......
ALEX CABOT IMPLYING A NONEXISTING SEARCH WARRANT AND ARGUING THAT HER EVIDENCE IS STILL VALID BECAUSE THE FOURTH AMENDMENT RIGHTS THST WERE VIOLATED WERENT THAT OF THE DEFENDANT IS INSAAAAAANE
EVEN MORE INSANE THAT THE JUDGE DISMISSED THE MOTION TO SUPRESS THE EVIDENCE ALEXANDRA CABOT THE WOMAN THAT YOU ARE
At least the judge was like “girl you fucked up you’re probably gonna lose your job so congrats” AND YET SHE STILL DIDNT LOSE HER JOB BRO
AND ON TOP OF THAT! Made sure that the detectives she had follow through on a “warrant”, wouldn’t have any of the actual blame placed on them, keeping them safe. (Also good on Elliot and Liv to immediately be like “um idk actually I don’t think she every said it”)
bro this whole calex baby series has got me acting like im snorting crack because im really trying to have/make a whole lore as to why and how casey can get alex pregnant
(TO BE FAIR SOMEONE DID ASK ME HOW DOES THE THING WORK AND I PANICKED AND MADE A LORE BEHIND IT)
