Judge Elizabeth Donnelly: According to the suit, you conspired with Detective Stabler to deprive Patty Kendall of his civil and constitutional rights. Did you?
ADA Casey Novak: No
Judge Elizabeth Donnelly: Pity. Guy sounds like a douchebag.
— Law & Order: Special Victims Unit (s8e15: Haystack)
ao3. mature (future ch.), 2200 words (ch. 1), season 10
This fic owes a debt of gratitude to the trouble won't wait by @whiteberryx, and to the encouragement of @allergictocanon and @iwoulddieforher so, if you like it, thank them.
Things that used to be inconveniences had been turning into blessings for Casey lately. She thanked herself for not moving out of her Brooklyn apartment the last time her lease was up, despite its tiny size and long commute to the office. She could’ve afforded a bigger place then, and had resigned the lease more out of a lack of motivation to move than anything else, a rare moment of laziness that paid off.
Had it been two months already? The date on her Blackberry said so, as did the birds chirping outside her cracked-open window. An ordinary July would have seen her cheerfully going about her Saturdays, but they felt hollow this year. She couldn’t revel in the warming weather under these circumstances. Running could still settle her spirit, so she slipped on her sneakers and went out the door.
Her running schedule had been drifting later by increments, even though she wasn’t sleeping much later these days. She checked her watch when she got to Prospect Park-- it was already ten fifteen. A different crowd gathered at this hour, the coffee vendors were joined by nannies pushing strollers, teenagers laid out on picnic blankets, elderly couples resting their canes on benches. As she ran she felt her body start to fill with a gentle, pleasant contentment that was usually out of her reach. She sped up towards the end of the long loop, pushing. Maybe she’d sign up for a half-marathon soon, give herself something to look forward to. She slowed to a walk, then stopped to stretch by a bench in front of the lake.
She rolled her neck out, rested her hands behind her head. She was hungry. A bagel and a latte on her way home called her name, though she knew she should really eat what she had at home, use the nice coffee machine her mother bought her for Christmas. She sipped water from the bottle in her drawstring backpack. She started walking again, beginning the short journey back to her apartment. The park was getting truly crowded now, as it did at this time in this weather. She checked her phone: no texts, no messages. She counted that as another blessing.
---
She got the bagel, but not the latte. She showered, and blow dried her hair, did some Sudoku while listening to Wait, Wait, Don’t Tell Me!. She tidied her bedroom, and did the dishes, and it was still only two o’clock.
She guessed she’d go get some work done. She was bringing in money the way she had in law school, freelance copywriting. It was monotonous, mind-numbing even, but that meant it was very easy. It wasn’t the most lucrative thing she could do, but neither was being an ADA. Building her own schedule was a plus. Even if, ever the workaholic, she couldn’t resist the temptation to do things like work on beautiful early summer Saturday afternoons. At least she could do it in a sweatshirt and a pair of old jeans.
With not too much deliberation, she wound up at one of the few cafés in her neighborhood that had seating and tolerated people working there on the weekends. She set herself up in a shady spot on the patio with an iced chai (this place had the best chai) and a croissant beside her. She had several commissions to get done by a week from today, and she typed them out in a to-do list. She let herself get sucked into the work, and knocked out the two Linkedin profiles on her list in about an hour. She closed her laptop, the only way she was able to force herself to take a break.
The screen had been blocking something, or rather, someone sitting at the table just across from her. Someone who waved at her as she closed the novel in her hands. She looked good. Her hair was longer than Casey had ever seen it. She looked polished, put together, and Casey felt conscious of the flyaways poking out of her claw clip and the holes in the cuffs of her shirt. She took out her earbuds.
“Casey Novak,” Alex said. “The rumor mill is wrong then. You didn’t run off to Colorado.”
“Alex Cabot,” Casey replied. How the collective consciousness of the New York City legal community learned of her week at her sister’s place in Boulder escaped her. “I did, for a moment. The altitude doesn’t agree with me.”
“Too much fresh air will drive a girl crazy.”
“Yeah, so will little sisters. You’re well-dressed,” Casey noted. “What’s the occasion?”
Alex looked at her dress and cardigan. “Lunch with my mother. I only wish it was early enough for a drink now. Coffee just doesn’t quite do the trick.”
“You could always splash some whiskey in there.”
“Tempting,” Alex said. “I don’t think this place has any in stock.”
“You don’t carry some in your purse?” Casey joked. It got her a laugh.
“What’s on that laptop that has you so focused? You were typing like a maniac on that thing. Writing the next great American novel?”
“Close, it’s work.”
“Of a Saturday afternoon, how dreadful.” Alex shook her head.
“I’m sure you work plenty of weekends.” Casey knew she was back at the DA’s office. “It’s not so bad. Maybe I’ll take Monday afternoon off.”
“Now there’s an idea,” Alex said.
“I’d better get a little more done if I want to,” Casey said, though she didn’t really want the conversation to end.
“I’ll leave you to it,” Alex said, and returned to her book. Casey opened up her ancient laptop again, and returned to her maniacal typing.
---
Taking Monday afternoon off seemed more and more likely as the morning dragged on. She was almost finished with the week’s work already. She had no clue how she’d fill the rest of her suspension year at this rate. Maybe she should take Alex’s suggestion, but she’d never been one for writing fiction.
Her mind had been occasionally drifting to the conversation with her old colleague over the past few days. They’d never been close, knowing each other how anyone in different bureaus did at the DA’s office. The extent of their relationship had been small talk, but it had always been nice small talk. And yet, they’d shared the intense experience that was the Connors trial. That case had done a lot for Casey professionally, but it had also been a large moment of personal growth for her. And, she imagined it had given her a perspective on Alex Cabot that few people would ever have: she’d seen her as a victim.
At the coffee shop, though, it was like that had never happened, like they were making idle chat at the work Christmas party or something. There was a mismatch there that stuck in Casey’s brain, like a skipping CD playing at a low volume.
What to do with a self-imposed free afternoon? There was an exhibit at the MoMA that she might like to see, but the thirty-dollar admission price didn’t appeal to her. She’d gone for a run that morning, but she could go to the batting cages, or go lift at the gym, but she couldn’t remember the last rest day she’d taken-- maybe two workouts in one day wasn’t the best idea. She had some overdue library books, she remembered. She could make an activity out of it, go to the main branch. There were usually exhibits up there, so she could satisfy her museum craving, and she could pick up something new to read.
There was a F stop close to her apartment, but even the short walk was sweltering. She’d read somewhere once about how all the concrete traps heat and makes it artificially warmer in the city in the summer time. They were due for some summer rain. She passed a popsicle cart, and as she stepped down the stairs, saw some kids playing in a fire hydrant down the street. There was no relief from the heat in the station. A young man jumped the turnstile. She reloaded her Metrocard. She put in one earbud plugged into her iPod shuffle. A song from The Reminder played.
Nine-and-a-half songs, and she got off at forty-second street. People rested on the steps of the main branch building. A group of men were bucket drumming for tips. Casey walked in, and immediately dropped her books in the first return box she saw. It was pleasantly cool inside, and busy, but not crowded. People sat at tables. Casey almost wished she’d brought her laptop-- she liked to work here. She browsed the magazines, and the newspapers, but found nothing particularly interesting there. None of the exhibits particularly caught her eye either.
The visit was mostly a bust, then. At least she found the memoir her sister had recommended last month.
---
She would’ve stayed longer if the library hadn’t closed at five. The book was really good, and she loved the reading room on the top floor. She didn’t feel like going home yet. If she went home, she’d probably put the TV on and be bored the rest of the evening. A bar she liked did its happy hour from five to seven on Mondays. A crisp glass of white wine sounded like the right way to extend her outing. It was a short walk, but she still got slightly sweaty, and was glad she was wearing a skirt. She was early enough that she got a seat at the bar. She got her wine, and went back to her book.
She read happily through her first glass, and ordered a second. A quarter of the way through it, she felt a tap on her shoulder, and looked up to see the woman she had been thinking of earlier that day.
“Alex,” Casey said. “What a surprise.”
“You’re certainly engrossed in that book,” Alex said. “I’ve been sitting here for half an hour.”
“Really?” Casey said, a bit embarrassed.
“No,” Alex said with a smile. “I just walked in. I’m meeting Abbie Carmichael for dinner in,” she looked down at her cell, “thirty minutes.”
“Are you always so punctual?” Casey said.
“I was working at the library, and they closed on me. I went home and changed, and I was still early.”
Casey laughed. “That’s how I ended up here, too.”
“I thought you were taking Monday afternoon off,” Alex said. Casey was taken aback that she remembered.
“I was reading this,” she gestured to the book. Alex took it out of her hands. “Left the work at home.” She opened her bag. “See, no laptop.”
“Aren’t you disciplined,” Alex said, reading the back. “This looks good.”
“I endorse it,” Casey said. “Why don’t you sit, while you wait for Carmichael?”
Alex slid into the chair, and got the bartender’s attention. She ordered an Aperol Spritz.
“Do you have business with the Southern District?” Casey asked, even though she didn’t exactly want to talk law.
“It’s personal,” Alex shook her head. “We have a standing dinner once a month, for years actually.”
“That’s nice,” Casey said.
“We couldn’t let go of the tradition after we broke up,” Alex winked.
“I wouldn’t want to either,” Casey said, masking her mild surprise at the notion of that couple, and her milder surprise at Alex’s confirmed sexual orientation. She’d always had an inkling (of course, she knew Abbie was gay-- that was not a well kept secret). “This is one of my favorite places in the city.”
“Mine too,” Alex said. “So, what is the work that you can’t seem to bear tearing yourself away from these days?”
“I’m afraid I’m this way about any work,” Casey said. “You should’ve seen me scooping ice cream in high school.”
“I would like to see that,” Alex chuckled. “Did you wear a little hat?”
“And an apron,” Casey said, allowing herself to be teased. “I’ve been freelancing. It’s mostly writing blog posts, product descriptions, things like that.”
“How riveting. I can see why you can’t get enough.” Casey felt herself roll her eyes.
“It’s thrilling, truly,” she played along. “It’s fine money, and I can do it in my sleep.”
“There are worse things than boredom,” Alex said. Casey raised her glass to that.
“How is it being back?” Casey turned the conversation on Alex.
“At the DA’s office?” She asked.
“That is what I meant,” Casey said. “But, the other thing too,” she continued, daring the conversation to go there. “If you want to talk about that.”
Alex nodded. “Nobody asks me to,” she said.
“You don’t have to.”
“No,” Alex said, sipping her drink. “I wish more people would.” She paused, looking around the room for a moment. “It’s odd, though work is good. It took a lot for me to be ready for it again, but I am now.”
“I bet it feels good, being back doing what you do best.”
Alex breathed a laugh. “I was a pretty good claims adjuster, I’ll have you know.”
“I’m sure,” said Casey.
“You asked me a question, so I get to ask you one now.”
“Go ahead,” said Casey.
“Why haven’t you appealed your suspension?” Casey sighed. She didn’t really have a good answer for that. Alex’s phone buzzed, and she turned her head towards the door. Abbie waved. Alex rose from her seat. “Saved by the ex-girlfriend,” she said. “You’re not off the hook. See you around, Casey.”
Ok so I just listened to an SVU podcast where they interviewed Diane Neal about her time on the show… here’s a couple tidbits that Diane said
1.Her first episode in season 3 she was only like 22 or 23 years old
2. She was the youngest person on the cast when she became Casey Novak with the second youngest person being Mariska…. Being 12 years older
3.She tormented Meloni for 6 months when she first became a regular by bringing an opened can of mixed vegetables and leaving them for him to find because of one of his previous roles
4. When he finally “flipped” his lid she was laughing her ass off and he was like “Jesus how old are you” and she responded “25” and then he immediately calmed down and was like “oh ok cool” and now whenever he is with cast members from that movie he will send Diane a selfie with a can of mixed vegetables
5. Her and Ice-T were obsessed with uncrustables that were provided to snack on (I NEED a fic where this is a plot point)
6. Diane said whenever she saw that the actress who played Judge Petrovsky was on the call sheet, she would be so excited cause it was always so fun to work with her (as well as Viola Davis)
7. Apparently her character Casey Novak was based off of one of the writers who was actually a SVU ada in Brooklyn at one point
8. Her episode in season 3 was basically her first acting gig, one of any note anyway
9. Diane lowkey shipped Casey with Chester Lake (I was deeply upset about this fact *not really lol*)
10. The Sex Crimes baseball t-shirt we see Casey wear sometimes if an actual design used for department softball games for the Brooklyn SVU
I highly recommend listening to the podcast “That’s Messed Up: An SVU podcast” the episode they interviewed Diane Neal was where they talked about Serendipity, which was the first episode of Casey Novak
I went to the small pizzeria in a nearby village last month and asked for a calzone, and when she brought it to me the owner had a look on her face I can only describe as bitter.
Naturally my first assumption was that she was judging me for my food order (maybe calzones are too easy compared to other pizzas and she felt under-challenged as a pizza chef?), but then I looked at my calzone and the more I looked at it, the more I felt like it might have been a failed attempt at a cat calzone.
(I didn't ask for a cat calzone, just a calzone.)
If I had immediately identified it as a cat calzone I would have of course said something about it, such as "Aww that's so cute! You made it in the shape of a cat!! Thank you!" — but it was too late. I hesitated too long, and it was just failed enough that I wasn't sure it was meant to be a cat.
I think this poor woman knew her cat calzone was a failure and I wouldn't be able to recognise her effort for what it was, hence the bitterness in her eyes when she brought it to me.
I asked my friend if my pizza looked like a cat to her, and she said "Are you saying this because of the olives? I think they were just placed randomly."
no, I think they were meant to be eyes, and a cat nose. And those are the ears. Wait, I'll turn it in your direction so you can see
Friend: "It's just a pointy calzone... Maybe you should ask the chef if she meant to make it a cat?"
If I tried to make a cat calzone and the recipient of this gift went like 'hey, sorry, is this weird-looking thing meant to be cat?' I would sell my pizza restaurant and drown myself in the river.
After considering this, my friend said we could brainstorm a better phrasing—but then we ended up agreeing that since the chef didn't go 'haha sorry I tried to make a cat and failed!!' when she brought my pizza, the options were a) she didn't try to make a cat; b) she feels humiliated by her failure, and either way it's better to say nothing.
But I felt deeply curious about this unresolved mystery, so this week when I went back to the pizzeria I asked for a calzone again.
The options were now: a) the chef brings me a better, recognisable cat calzone and I immediately remark upon it and she's happy and we erase the failed cat calzone from the historical record and never mention it ever;
or b) the chef brings me a normal calzone, which suggests that the vague cat shape from last time was accidental and just another instance of chronic cat pareidolia.
(I refused to consider option c) The chef brings me another failed, hardly-recognisable cat. She just doesn't seem like the kind of person who would let that happen to her twice.)
Here's the photo of the failed cat calzone from last time, which, according to my friend, just looks like a pointy calzone with randomly-placed olives and not a deliberate attempt to make a cat:
And here's what the chef brought me this time:
THAT'S A CAT.
I knew it!!!!
And it looks so sad!! This cat calzone looks like it will burst into olive oil tears if you once again fail to identify it as the cat that it is
But I didn't; I was so ready this time. I went "A cat!!!!! It's so cute!" and the chef went like yes!!! I tried to make one last time but it looked weird :(
I said I was pretty sure it was a cat last time and apologised for not bringing it up and she said no, it's my responsibility to make it a decent cat. She also said she was glad I'd come back and ordered another calzone because she was really bothered ("vraiment embêtée") by that first failed attempt, and wondering if I'd noticed an attempt was made (and failed)
That's so relatable. It's like when you make a really embarrassing spelling mistake in a text and you're not sure if the other person has seen it and is judging you for it. Should you bring it up? Can it go unnoticed if you don't? It's the cat calzone equivalent of that. I'm so glad we were able to clear the air.
The office manager strode down the sterile hallway, apparently expecting Alex to follow.
“Ms. Novak arranged for a friend to drive her home,” she said, looking through some files as she stopped in front of two doors marked Recovery. “However, her friend was unable to stay throughout the entire dental procedure, and the other emergency contacts listed are too far away to be able to give Ms. Novak an escort home.”
“Why not call her a cab?”
She spun around to face Alex and gave her a pained, patented, fake-patient smile. “She’s having what I would call, one of the stronger reactions to the anesthesia, and it has not worn off yet. It should wear off fairly soon, but we didn’t want to leave her vulnerable,” she said. “We’ve already stayed longer than usual, so I want to thank you so much for coming. How do you know Ms. Novak?”
“I’m her boss.”
“Oh.”
“Oh, indeed.” Alex said.
The manager looked again at the emergency contact information she had, and again realized she had no other options. She looked back at Alex, letting her reticence show on her face and said, “People really aren’t in control of what they say when under the effects of anesthesia.”
“I am aware,” she said. “It’s okay. It’s not a long car ride.”
-
Casey had a big smile when it was genuine, when she was in a truly good mood- Alex was not immune to it’s effects- and now it was made even bigger by the gauze in her cheeks. Alex felt herself smiling in return before she could help herself.
“Alex!” Came the mumbled exclamation, as Casey turned away from a cartoon playing on a monitor suspended from the ceiling above a reclining dental chair.
“Hello Casey, how are you feeling?”
“I am great! How are you?”
“I’m fine, thanks,” she smiled again.
“Alex.”
“Yes.”
“How did you get here?”
She was going to answer, but in the interim seconds as she formed a reply, Casey looked away, letting her head loll back against the dental chair, and closed her eyes, muttering, “Alex, Alex, Alex...”
Alex was slightly tempted to say, ‘What? What? What?’ but remained silent nonetheless.
Thirty whole seconds later, Casey’s eyes popped open again and turned to the dental assistant by her side. She tugged at the woman’s scrubs to get her attention.
“Alex is so beautiful,” she said to the waiting assistant once she leaned down ever so slightly.
“I’m so in love with her, but-,” she tried to bring a finger to her lips, but had to press them several times to find them due to numbness, but still she formed a significant look. “-Shhh,” she made a very poor shushing sound. “She doesn’t know, no one knows. I’ve never said it out loud.”
The dental assistant firmly nodded, trying not to laugh as Alex crossed her arms and fought a blush.
“Okay,” he said. “I won’t tell a soul.”
“Okay,” Casey repeated.
“Are you ready to stand, my dear?” he said.
“I can stand, I can hop, I can run… I should go on a run,” Casey said with very wide eyes.
“You know,” the assistant said, “I don’t think it’s very good weather today, and you just had dental surgery, so why don’t you wait 48 hours… for my sake.”
“Oh,” she said sadly. “Okay.”
He turned toward Alex, and handed over a packet, “These are detailed aftercare instructions, her prescription and an after hours phone number for questions or problems that might pop up.”
“Thank you,” Alex said.
“But hey,” he turned back to Casey, “you do get to go home now.”
The redhead became happy again once she was standing and looking around the room.
“Alex!”
“Hi Casey.”
“When did you get here?”
“Just now,” Alex said, smiling fondly despite herself.
“Are you getting your wisdom teeth out too?”
“I got them out when I was a teenager,” Alex made a face. “Like most people do.”
“Oh,” Casey stared at her. “That was smart of you. You’re so smart.”
“Are you ready to go?”
“I already knew you were smart, though.”
“Thank you,” she said, and held her hand out to be able to get Casey moving. “Let’s go.”
“Are we going to court?”
“It’s time to go home.”
Casey took her hand gently, almost reverently, and stood closer and looked deeply into her eyes. “We should go to the zoo,” she said. “Do you like the zoo?”
“I do, but considering the hour, how about we take you to your apartment instead?”
Casey’s eyes went wide. “Yes,” she said, and turned toward the door without letting go of Alex’s hand, pulling her gently along the way. “I like it there too. Let’s go.”
-
Aside from making no move to let go of her hand, Casey was quiet throughout the elevator ride to the parking garage, Alex had a relatively easy time getting her into the car. The ease lulled Alex into thinking the worst of the anesthesia was over, however.
“I’m so hungry,” Casey said after mere blocks.
“Let’s see what you have at your place that’s soft,” Alex said. “I hope you planned ahead.”
“I’m like that caterpillar,” Casey said, very seriously.
“How so?” Alex asked, in a bemused tone.
“I’m hungry,” Casey replied simply.
“I’m sure you think that explains it,” Alex said, and smiled in spite of herself.
“Did you ever read the book The Hungry Caterpillar?” Casey said.
“No.”
“I used to have to read it to my niece. He was so hungry so he ate through grapes, and salami, and a cake, oh.. I want cake. Can you make a cake?”
“That is not among my skills, no. I can scoop out ice cream,” Alex offered, hoping to find a pre-stocked fridge and freezer at Casey’s home. “I can also blend smoothies.”
“I love smoothies.”
“Smoothie it is,” Alex said.
“I had no idea you’re so good at cooking,” she said, awed.
“I’m really not.”
She leaned closer, crossing the center console of the car, and dropped her head onto Alex’s shoulder. “You smell good too.”
“Thank you,” Alex said, not completely unfazed. She started to feel the blush coming on again.
“Sophie was supposed to drive me home.”
“Why didn’t she?”
“She went into early labor.”
“Labor?”
“It was labor. Early. Early labor. Earlier than expected. She’s pregnant. But the baby is supposed to come later.”
“You didn’t have a second person in case of emergencies?”
“Oh, I do, but they’re married,” she made a gesture with her hands.” They’re like, married. You know. Married with a tiny early baby, now.”
“Okay.”
“Can you imagine?”
“Being married?”
“Early labor. It’s two months early. That’s extra early.”
“I’m sure everyone is doing fine,” Alex said.
Casey put her hand on Alex’s arm again, this time gently running her fingers up and down Alex’s forearm. “Do you think the baby’s going to need extra things? Because she’s extra early?”
“I don’t think that’s how it works.”
“But what if she needs extra things. I should go get some extra things. I’m a godmother now. I should find a 24 hour baby store and get them. I should get her the caterpillar.”
“How about I help you find extra things online.”
“You would do that?” Casey said, squeezing her arm, gently. “You’re so amazing.”
“Thank you.”
“And smart.”
“You already said that.”
“And beautiful.”
Alex cleared her throat. “You mentioned that as well.”
Casey hummed, and sat back heavily into her seat, her hand falling into her lap. Alex almost missed the warmth.
At the next red light, Casey sat upright in the car seat again and turned to Alex, staring at her from very large eyes, and placed her hand and solemnly atop Alex’s arm once again.
“Alex?”
“Yes.”
“We should watch Scooby Doo.”
“Okay,” Alex laughed and sighed in the same breath, mostly happy for the conversation shift for once, and to be able to get Casey to focus on something else. “I hope you have access to Scooby Doo, then.”
“I do not,” Casey said, completely unfazed. She looked at the buildings outside of her window. “Oh, we’re almost home. That’s good.” She sighed and fiddled with the bag of papers and supplies the dental office had given her. “When did you have your wisdom teeth out?”
“When I was around nineteen,” Alex said, smirking. “Why did you wait this long to remove them.”
“They weren’t causing a problem because I had enough room in my jaw. My brother called me a big mouth for years. But one of the unwise, wisdom teeth, the unwisest of them all, moved close to a nerve so he had to go, and they took the rest of them with him, for conspiracy.”
“The good stuff must be wearing off a little bit,” Alex said, “That was almost a coherent sentence.”
“It must be wearing off,” she said. “I think my jaw might be starting to ache.”
“We are almost to your place and you can look through that bag and directions and take some sort of pain pill, I’d imagine.”
“I don’t really like pain pills,” Casey said. “They make everything fuzzy.”
“That might not be a terrible thing, considering this conversation,” Alex said, pulling to a stop at Casey’s building.
“Considering what?” Casey said, sleepily, trying to think through the mental fog and a mouth full of gauze and she leaned her head back and closed her eyes, drifting off again.
“Considering, I think you’re beautiful too,” Alex smiled. “And I’m not sure I’m ready for you to remember that yet.”
PART 2 - Appendix (if this is too long/annoying let me know and THANK you @whiteberryx you are the best for helping with this)
-
She could do this.
She didn’t have to quit.
She could… do this.
Really, it wouldn’t be that bad.
And it’s not like Alex was going to remember anything.
So, no harm, no foul. She didn’t have to quit, really.
She took a deep breath.
She could do this. She was ready.
Casey took a deep breath. Gathered up her briefcase after she reapplied her strongest foundation and even followed it with concealer, and finally left her office.
She was ready…until she saw Rafael Barba heading right towards her with a gleam in his eye.
“No,” Casey said, turning around on a dime and heading back into her office for cover.
“Casey,” Rafael said in a nasal whine, and followed her, as she tried to shut the door on him. Unfortunately, he stuck one of his too-expensive shoes into the door to block it.
“Ow.”
“Tough,” she said, trying to kick at his shins. Her brows furrowed dramatically and she clenched her jaw. “I have eight other things she’s making me bring to her, I don’t have time for your-“
He ducked under her arms and placed a file on the top of the small banker’s box of materials she was holding. “You. Are. Acting. Chief!” he said in that same fake anger he used for court.
“Yeah right,”Casey scoffed so hard she nearly choked, and then rolled her eyes to cover. “I… I merely have the authority to sign the time cards for the paralegals and assistants, but if she already said ‘no’ to you, then you are insane for thinking I’d go over her head.”
“She hasn’t been with it long enough to get the updates,” his hands shook in frustration as he tried to keep up with her as she made her escape. “If you won’t accept the plea, then you have to get her to accept the plea.”
“No, I do not,” she said, maneuvering around him. “And you can’t make me.”
“Walker’s defense is going back with another motion to suppress,” he sighed. “I mean, he won’t get very far but there’s always a chance,” he made his final move as he saw that she was listening to him. “But Liv has the partner on the ropes. If we give the partner the plea, we can get both of them.”
“So…” she said, and gritted her teeth, trying to deflect again. “Come back to me when Liv has the confession, or…,” she shook her hands in frustration. “Go to the DA himself.”
He paled. “Cabot threatened to defenestrate me if I went over her head.”
A twinge of a smile crossed her face before she could school it once more, but she couldn’t prevent her heart from doing its funny little flutter when Cabot amused her so. She bit her lip to try to hide it. “What makes you think I won’t?” she finally said, shaking it off.
“I know you hurt your shoulder,” he said, pointing at her in accusation as he tried to flee himself, his eyes victorious as he saw the opening in her resolve. “Peter has been trying to find a replacement shortstop all week.”
She looked at her watch. “Run it by her yourself… preferably when the pain meds are waning!”
“Gee, I just can’t,” he said, doubling his escaping pace and waving his motion papers at her. “Suppression hearing in 20. Couldn’t possibly make it all the way to the hospital and back.”
She sighed and let her head fall back in supplication to the ceiling. “Don’t you dare ask me for anything else until she gets back,” Casey called after him.
She could hear his scoff from around the corner. She rubbed at her temples as she added another hashmark to the tally she kept on the last sheet in the clipboard that she was now carrying around to keep count of how many times she had almost quit.
She let her head drop and closed her eyes.
She was definitely going to quit.
-
At least she was no longer dripping after abandoning her coat on the errant waiting chair. Now she was just shivering in the hallway. Was she underdressed without the trench? Was her hair starting to get frizzy? The wavy nature of her hair was always duplicitously activated by the rain. But, it wasn’t like Alex was going to look much better in a hospital bed away from her magic elixirs and secret Tribeca salon. Or at least, she shouldn’t be able to.
Nobody was supposed to look very good in a dowdy hospital gown stricken with bedhead with an almost bursting appendix - no matter how charmed they were by angels, or fairies, or land owning, waspy, ancestry.
As if summoning her attention, Alex’s voice carried through the doorway. “Casey!”
Alex was, to Casey’s dismay, still not the remotest bit dowdy. She had a picture perfect chingon and sported a relaxed, almost messy smile that wiped away any awkwardness from the ill-fitting, strangely patterned hospital gown.
“I quit,” Casey said, only mildly surprised she uttered it out loud.
Alex’s smile grew wider and she lightly shook her head a few too many times in response. She squinched up her nose and said, “You’re too pretty to quit.”
Casey closed her jaw and inhaled deeply, willing the blush not to go to her ears. She didn’t think to apply blush-hiding foundation to her ears.
“Get in here,” Alex’s voice sounded excited and happy from inside the hospital room. “Ca-sey No-vak!” She sing-songed as Casey still dawdled in the hallway gathering her fortitude.
“I saw your shape,” Alex said, and hummed lightly. “Without my glasses I can’t even see the time of day,” she pointed at the clock on the wall above Casey and almost laughed.
Casey closed her eyes in… Pain? Frustration? Dumbfoundedness? Acceptance?
Seeing Cabot without her glasses felt so revealing. At least as revealing as the gown, if not more. “Where are your glasses?”
Alex pouted. She literally pouted. “I think they took them away because I kept trying to read my chart,” she said.
“Ah.”
“It is my chart,” she said, and then her eyes drifted off from the nebulous end of the bed and onto Casey. “But, whatever. It’s fine,” she smiled the relaxed smile again. “Everything’s fine now.”
“Everything’s fine,” Casey repeated automatically, almost in a trance. Her own eyes were having difficulty trying to move away from Alex who looked… it was just so intimate with Alex in bed in a flimsy gown. Finally her eyes moved away, and she noticed more flowers appropriating every flat surface.
Casey couldn’t help but move over and inspect the card on the newest arrival.
“I see the DA sent nice flowers,” Casey said.
“Jack was here?”
“Uh,” Casey’s lip twitched trying to control a smile. “At least once that I was here for, but I think he had his admin send these,” she said, having to take a deep breath in through her nose to ward off a laugh.
“That’s nice,” Alex said, and then her smile was followed by a stern frown. “Unless he was here to defend his little shadow, Cutter, encroaching on my territory.”
“Um, well,” Casey scratched at her head a bit. “He did share his concern over your,” she waved over Alex’s body, “and wished you a speedy recovery.”
Alex formed what Casey thought was an attempt at suspicion, but it was really all over the place.
Casey bit her lip and then let it go, and with it a little laugh.
Alex stared at her lip and watched it for a moment before shaking her head and trying really hard to get back to the point.
“Speak,” Alex tried to command even though the finger she waved in the air was a bit wobbly.
Casey cleared her throat. “You threatened to stalk the halls of 1HP in your hospital gown with your,” she coughed, “ass out - than let Cutter anywhere near your bureau,” she closed her eyes tightly and said the rest as quickly as she could. “And you finished their visit by saying that nobody was to question me as your proxy and that you had the receipts to back it up.”
“Good!” Alex said, smiling brightly and raising the finger higher in the air.
“Um… yes,” Casey nodded, thanking herself once again for reapplying the makeup. “It was… rather well said.” After a moment of smiling back, Casey caught herself and schooled her face.
Alex nodded in some kind of agreement and then tilted her head and regarded Casey. Slowly. From head to foot and back, and then smiled once more, with meaning.
Casey gulped audibly.
Alex merely let her smile grow, laughed once, knowingly, and then mercifully, started in anew.
“How is it out there?”
Casey looked past her, out the window, reliving the miserable walk over, it was cold and stinging rain giving way to sleet before it made its way to snow.
“Opaque,” Casey replied.
And then came the laughter. Oh, the sweet, funny, bubbly, light little laughter that came out of Alex nearly made Casey’s heart just - stop.
“I meant, at the bureau,” Alex said and then looked at her with an expression that Casey almost couldn’t deal with.
Casey almost couldn’t prevent herself from falling to her knees and cheering when she saw Alex hit the morphine button once more.
“Well, I haven’t officially quit yet,” Casey shrugged.
“Somehow I knew that,” Alex said, and she fucking winked.
Alex gingerly let her head loll onto the pillow as the morphine numbed her pain and any complaint along with it and eyed Casey with something softer than suspicion. “I’ll be out of here soon enough, but I like that you come to see me. But that’s me. What are you getting out of all of this?”
Casey flashed a little, amused smile. “Well, you know me,” she said. “I have at least 5 ulterior motives.”
“Only five?”
Casey hid a graceless snort behind a hand and tried not to choke, she got it under as much control as uncontrollable giggles could be under control and brought Alex’s water bottle over to her as a suggestion for her to drink. She always seemed to get thirsty as the pain meds set in.
“Well motive number 1, of course, is to stay on your good side. Number 2, is to just get to see how little I have to do to mess with the rest of the bureau to keep them at bay.”
Alex held up a hand to keep her from going any further, and squinted even harder in Casey’s general direction. “Is it time for another plea agreement?”
“How on earth can you guess that even when you’re on pain meds?” Casey said.
“It’s written all over your face,” Alex grinned. “Your face talks out loud.”
Casey shook her head. “It’s unfair that you’re that observant when you’re,” she waved her hands over Alex in the bed.
“It’s what you do to me most days so I think we’re even,” Alex said. She smiled again and breathed in deep, closing her eyes.
Casey thought she was asleep and started to relax until she heard Alex speak again.
“Raf?”
“What?”
“Is it Raf who needs the plea deal?”
Casey shook her head in surprise. “Uh… um, yeah. It is. He thinks a plea on the accomplice will assure him a conviction for Walker.”
“Hmm,” Alex said and closed her eyes again. “Okay.”
“Alex… I can’t,” Casey mumbled, “With you like this…”
“Sure you can,” she said. “I know you, you wouldn’t mention it if it wasn’t,” she shrugged, “valid.”
“Alex,” Casey said, softer, coming closer and putting a hand on the bed rails to still herself.
“I trust you. I know that his arguments are makeshift,” she waved the hand not encumbered by an intravenous line. “Raf does make up some of his arguments with a by-the-seat-of-his-pants approach, but you… I know you know what’s right.”
“Alex, I-”
“Shh,” Alex said, and put a hand on her forearm and then opened one eye. “Why are you wet?”
“It’s raining,” Casey laughed.
Alex stared at her with the one eye, suspiciously. “You’re going to catch a cold.”
Casey bit her lip again against the sweet panging of her heart. She wasn’t going to be able to handle it if Cabot kept being this cute under the influence. She let out a long breath and got it together again on pure nerve alone.
“I’m not going to catch a cold, and if I did, then it would be from visiting a hospital full of sick people and have nothing to do with getting rained on. I know because when I was a kid I got sick of my mom saying that and biked to the library and researched it until I found proof that I was right.”
“You would,” Alex said, and laughed another light little laugh. “So is the bureau giving you more trouble.”
“Not really,” Casey lied. Every day felt like there was a new fire to put out. “Raf did call me abrasive and strident.”
“Those aren’t character flaws everywhere and all the time,” Alex said. Her eyes were blown, but intense. And they held hers, and she stared at her lips. “Besides, it’s cute on you.”
Everything in her stoned demeanor said she was interested in Casey.
That there was an attraction from Alex absolutely blew-her-mind.
And it was oh-so-fucking-mutual.
She would never, ever be able to erase that knowledge from her brain.
Alex was attracted to her. Holy Hell. How was she just supposed to carry on about normal life just, knowing that.
A nervous, strident laugh came out of Casey. “Oh, my. I do appreciate how the pain meds make you so… frank, and I love that you will not remember. Because sometimes you say things that… I don’t know what to reply.”
“That’s okay,” Alex said.
“I imagine everything’s okay on morphine.”
“That’s very true,” Alex said and nodded vigorously.
Casey’s brain was short circuiting for so many reasons and it did not have the capacity to process this right now. But it was relieved by a blessed alarm.
“What’s that?”
“No idea,” Alex shrugged. “So many tubes, so many timers.”
A nurse came in shortly and pressed at the buttons on the machine attached to Alex’s IV, and the beeping stopped. As the nurse left, Alex said, “Go give Raf his plea.”
Casey stood up faster than a law student let go from class early. At the door though, she looked back at Alex. “I’ll be back when you go to surgery.”
“I’ll look forward to it,” Alex smiled widely again.
Casey’s heart flat out thudded this time. “Oh my god, I really need to fucking quit.”
thanks to the jury (@storiesofsvu @rustyzebra) for the once through, and always @allergictocanon
contains a smidge of smut. soft as 10 ply.
-
As you and Alex had been seeing each other for the better part of the year, it was only natural that you started buying doubles of everything so you had your proper skincare routine no matter where you were sleeping that night. You loved Alex’s en suite, with its his and hers – well, hers and hers – sinks and ample counter space. You used up most of the room on your side, with an assortment of cleansers, toners, exfoliators, serums and creams standing up in two neat rows. An acrylic box with drawers held your daily makeup. In stark contrast, Alex’s side had only one cleanser, a moisturizer, and sunscreen, and her makeup fit in a repurposed pencil tray from her office desk.
It wasn’t an uncommon occurrence for Alex to lean against the counter and gently tease you that you took triple the amount of time to get ready to leave the house or to go to bed, but tonight she was looking at herself in the mirror more carefully than usual. As you massaged in the last of your moisturizer, you were surprised to see her still peering at her reflection. “Bedtime,” you announced, and Alex nodded, turning off the light and leading the two of you to bed.
As you got comfortable on your side of the bed with the crossword and Alex on hers with a book, an easy silence settled upon you both. Alex was only teaching one class at Georgetown this semester, and subsequently had found it easier to wind down in the evenings. Your job was nothing special, a nine-to-five where you’d gotten a handle on ensuring you weren’t routinely available after hours, so quiet time before bed was easily made.
Stumped on a rather cryptic clue (“Careful, the shrub may have fingerprints on it!”), you decided to see if she knew any of the crosses that you didn’t have to make it easier. “Hey, Al–” you started to ask, stopping mid sentence as you turned your head and realized Alex looking at you. “What? Do I have something on my face?”
Alex shook her head, looking pensive. “No. I was just thinking.”
“And counting my pores was a good way to do it?” you joked.
Alex grimaced, catching you off guard. Normally, you could earn at least a grin from her. “No. Funny you say that, though.”
Turning off your phone screen so you could focus on Alex, you put it on the nightstand before giving her a quizzical look. “What do you mean?”
Silent for a moment, it seemed like the older woman was contemplating her words with more care than usual. “I’m quite a bit older than you,” was all she said.
“One, you’re not that much older than I am. Two, what are you even talking about?”
Alex shut her book – which you noted she clearly hadn’t been reading, since she’d been on the same page for the entire time – and put it on the nightstand. “I’ve got almost a decade and a half on you.”
“So?” The back of your neck prickled, and your insides squirmed. The two of you had had long discussions about the age difference at the beginning of your relationship, and you hoped they never had to be rehashed.
“It shows,” Alex said simply.
You took a moment to consider what Alex was saying. “Honey, it’s not like you’re teaching leaning on a cane or using an oxygen tank. You look good, and you’re healthy.”
Alex wrinkled her nose, her lips twisting into another frown. It was apparent that you hadn’t reassured her out of whatever thoughts she was having. “You’re only saying that.”
Scooting over so you could get closer to Alex, you waited to make sure she wasn’t turning away, then wrapped an arm around her shoulders so she couldn’t escape. “Seriously. What’s going on?”
With a sigh, Alex leaned her head on your shoulder, obviously doing everything she could to avoid eye contact. “When we were getting coffee yesterday, this woman kept staring at me and giving you pointed looks. When you were in the bathroom, she left, but not before telling me that our obvious relationship was abhorrent, that I was clearly old enough to know better.
“Look at you,” Alex continued, not letting you interject. “You’re absolutely beautiful. And I’m–”
“Objectively stunning,” you interrupted, not letting this go any further. “Alex, it’s not always me they’re staring at when we’re out.”
Alex shook her head. “When I was at the dentist last week, did I tell you that the receptionist offered me a discount on my first Botox treatment with them?”
“You did not,” you replied.
“Obviously, I’m not about to get Botox, and especially not from there. That’s besides the point though. I… I’m older, and it shows. It’s a fact.”
Squeezing Alex’s shoulders, you used two fingers of your free hand to turn her head towards you by the chin. “Look at me. While it may be a fact, it doesn’t change the fact that you’re undeniably gorgeous. Whatever you’re seeing in the mirror,” you said, recalling how critically Alex had been staring at her reflection earlier, “doesn’t matter. You’re magnificent.”
Alex tried to squirm away, but you held her tighter, dropping your hand from under her chin so your arm could wrap around her front. The sideways hug was a little awkward, but that was the least of your worries. She looked away, head bowed, and you leaned in to kiss her temple, then slightly lower, at the outside corner of her eye. You had seen the faint wrinkles there, only really noticeable when her eyes crinkled, and it was as good a place as any to kick off your campaign to show Alex what you saw.
“You’re so beautiful,” you murmured, pressing kisses along the side of her face, down her jaw. You let go of her briefly, but only so you could move to straddle her. Your fingers found the buttons of her pyjama shirt, undoing each button slowly as you peppered kisses along her other cheek, her forehead.
Alex sighed, relaxing under you, and you knew that you had already won. That didn’t mean you weren’t going to see your idea through, though. Pushing her shirt off her shoulders, Alex did the rest of the work and cast the garment aside. Upper half now bared for you, you scooted down to give her the room to lie down, and then you crawled back up.
You lingered on her right shoulder, a scar from when a bullet grazed her during her first round at the FBI. It had long since healed, and didn't give her any problems now, but the scarring stubbornly remained. A fresher scar from when she was shot during her second round was more visible on her other arm, right in the middle of her upper arm, and you went there next, kissing it gently.
“I could never get enough of you,” you said, voice hushed as you went lower still, this time along her abdomen. Though it had been many years, the faintest evidence of pregnancy – and a C-section procedure – remained. Tugging at the waistband of Alex’s pyjama pants, the older woman lifted her hips, letting you pull the fabric down; between the two of you, they joined the top on the floor beside the bed.
Alex had taken up jogging since transitioning full-time to teaching; she’d done a few 5K runs, but nothing more strenuous than that. The work she put in was evident, though; your hands ghosted along strong thighs, following your mouth as you kissed a childhood scar just below her kneecap. Being the middle sister to two brothers meant she wasn’t immune to childish skirmishes, no matter how hard she tried, but somehow, the only evidence was a single scar from a bike crash.
There was one last scar you had to touch on, a surgical incision from where she’d had to get surgery for a fracture in her ankle. Placing a kiss at the top, you worked your way back up. You lingered along the rib cage, lips ghosting up her sternum and back to her mouth, where you kissed her firmly.
“I’m sure you know more words than me for beautiful, but rest assured, you’re every single one,” you murmured as you pulled away, going back to kiss down her neck. The skin there was still taut, firm, and you wondered just what you’d have to give up to ensure you would age as well as Alex. You then dragged your lips along her decolletage, dotting more butterfly kisses along her skin, unable to do anything else until you had lavished attention on every square inch of her chest.
She squirmed under you, clearly ready for you to move on from the soothing. “Sweetheart…”
“I got you,” you replied, “don’t you worry.” Pushing yourself up so you could kiss her on the mouth again, her hands wound in your hair and kept you close, gripping tightly.
Long moments passed before you wrenched yourself away, her grip slackening as you moved your head back. “I got you,” you repeated, kissing her forehead before sliding down, making yourself comfortable between her legs.
Grazing soft kisses along her abdomen as you scooted lower, you were pleased to see Alex’s legs spreading wider without your having to guide them apart. She let out a soft moan the second your tongue brushed against her, and as you kept tasting her, tongue stroking against her sensitive spots, her moans only grew louder.
You gripped her thighs to make sure she kept them apart for you as you nuzzled against her, more than happy to make yourself comfortable here until Alex pushed your head away. You often told the older woman that it was your favourite place to be, and you weren’t kidding, even though she laughed and playfully swatted at your shoulder every time. You adored being able to make her come apart with simply your mouth, and you’d spent many, many hours practicing with her.
You pushed her through her peak once, twice, before she was squirming, legs pushing against your hands. Letting go, you wiped the back of your hand against your mouth as you crawled upwards, curling up into Alex’s side and stroking her hair off her face. Once she had turned onto her side to face you, you wrapped an arm around her waist in a loose embrace. Leaning in, she kissed you gently, a few light pecks before you cuddled closer.
“Never forget,” you murmured, holding her close, “how beautiful you are.”
can a missing scene for a fic that's not written yet exist? spoiler alert, it can, because it does, and it's right here.
written for @storiesofsvu's bday bingo! square: coffee shop. hopefully by writing this, i'll actually write the real story. as usual, thanks to @allergictocanon for listening to the rambles.
no actual pairing (though you can probably guess endgame if you look at my tumblr for more than 0.4 seconds), rated G. alex starts to become a regular, and penelope tries to help jj.
for clarity's sake, it's a double AU: grad school and coffee shop.
-
It was uncharacteristically slow at the coffee shop that afternoon, but JJ didn’t mind; if the shop was clean and no one needed attention, she could do some of her class work. She was grateful she had ponied up for a tablet a few months ago, as it was much easier to skim through and annotate journal articles. She was skimming an article about ethics in intelligence when the bell over the door jangled. Thinking it was Luke, coming back from the garbage run, she didn’t immediately lift her head from her tablet, but the lack of huffing about the hike to the dumpster clued her in that it wasn’t him.
Alex let the door swing shut behind her as she entered the cafe, laptop and undergraduate essays in tow. She wasn’t quite sure what had possessed her to be a TA this semester, considering she was on the home stretch of her own doctorate, but when the linguistics department had found themselves short for the fall semester, she’d decided to offer up her time. The extra money was nice to have, and worth the amount of extra planning she’d had to do. Tuesday afternoons were reserved for marking, but Alex hadn’t felt like being cooped up in her stuffy, shared office, so she’d headed to Wayward Sisters Coffee, a newfound ritual of hers.
Looking up, JJ saw Alex peering into the pastry case, obviously debating if she should get something to eat. The brunette was fast becoming a regular at the cafe, claiming that they were the best coffee within walking distance. She often camped out at one of the tables for two by the window, usually grading papers or tapping away at her laptop, but JJ didn’t know much else about the other woman.
“Hi, JJ,” Alex said as she took a step towards the counter.
“Hey, the usual?” JJ asked, finger hovering above the tablet to punch Alex’s order in. Usually she drank double shot Americanos, and based on the fact they were currently suffering through an unseasonably late heatwave, she was guessing she wanted it iced.
Alex pursed her lips in thought as she considered straying from her regular order. In the end, though, she really just needed caffeine, and fast. “Please, but iced. Could I get a lemon poppyseed loaf too, please?”
Quietly satisfied with her correct guess, JJ tapped through the transaction and gestured to the pin pad in front of Alex while she headed to the pastry case. “Do you want a plate or bag?” JJ asked, holding the loaf up.
Alex looked over her shoulder, surveying the half-empty cafe briefly. Her favourite table, by the window but not in direct sunlight, was open. “Plate, please.” She tapped her phone against the pin pad, the machine chirping as the payment was processed.
“I’ll bring it over,” JJ said, glancing at the tablet to make sure the transaction went through. Alex walked to her table, and JJ put the slice on a plate before going to the bar to make Alex’s drink.
“So, when are you going to actually talk to her?”
“Sheesh, Penelope!” JJ exclaimed, almost knocking over the glass she’d set out for Alex’s drink. “You scared me.”
Penelope ignored her, washing her hands before she started back on shift. “She’s here all the time! How many missed connections can you, well, miss?”
JJ shook her head as she tamped down the espresso, glancing over at Alex from behind the machine. She seemed to be completely unaware of their conversation, pulling out paperwork from her bag. “I don’t even know the first thing about her.”
“You could ask,” Penelope said. “If you need a starter, however, she’s in the final year of her PhD in linguistics, even though she’s only a year older than us. Her main research interest is corpus linguistic study as it pertains to contemporary popular music. She did a double undergraduate in linguistics and sociology at Berkeley. Her Masters-”
“Pen, how do you know all of this?” JJ asked, not taking her eyes off of the espresso shot dripping out of the machine. “Why do you know all of this?”
“Department websites are a wealth of information,” Penelope replied, purposefully ignoring JJ’s second question as she started refilling the iced tea dispensers. It’d been an easy search, one that she’d done as soon as she’d had a break after Alex introduced herself a couple of weeks ago.
JJ decided it was probably for the better if she didn’t press Penelope for answers. “You don’t even know if she’s even remotely interested in women,” she continued, splashing half and half into Alex’s drink.
Penelope had made it a mission of sorts to help find JJ a girlfriend after she accidentally divulged one night that she missed being in a relationship, despite the fact that she was stretched thin with her Master’s program and work. Given that Alex was quickly becoming a fixture at the cafe, it made sense that Penelope would do a little digging on anyone that even remotely resembled a prospect.
Penelope was silent, but her facial expression gave it away when JJ narrowed her eyes at her. She’d found Alex’s social media too, a rarely-used Instagram profile and a Facebook page that was even sparser. It hadn’t given Penelope any clues, but it didn’t hurt to be optimistic for JJ’s sake. “Don’t even start,” JJ warned. She plucked a straw out of the dispenser, just in case, and picked up Alex’s order.
As JJ approached Alex’s table, she wasn’t sure where she was going to set down the dishes. Alex had her laptop out with a stack of paper on both sides, clearly having established some sort of system while she was waiting. She was taking notes on a paper in front of her, glancing at the screen every so often.
“Hey,” JJ said, announcing her arrival.
Alex looked up, then surveyed the table and saw how she had spread out everywhere already. Putting some papers over the keyboard of her laptop, JJ set down the dishes on the cleared corner of the table. “Thanks,” Alex said, immediately going for the straw and plunking it into her drink.
“First coffee of the day?” JJ teased, watching as Alex took a long pull from the beverage.
Alex gave her a half smile. “First decent coffee of the day,” she specified. The coffee she made at home wasn’t terrible, but Aeropressing whatever beans were on sale at the store was easily beaten by espresso.
JJ pulled a napkin out of the pocket of her apron, setting it beside the plate. “All the more reason for you to keep coming back,” she said, then immediately turned and walked away quickly. She wasn’t quite sure what possessed her to say that, to say anything more than ‘enjoy,’ really, and she hurried back behind the counter, feeling the back of her neck heat up.
“Not a word,” she warned Penelope as she staunchly avoided eye contact with her. She didn’t dare turn and face the cafe either, so she fled to the back, mumbling about needing more half and half for the fridge.
“Do you see how dirty this sink is?” Alex says. She turns back to scrubbing the pristine sink.
Requested by @nielsen19844: Domestic Calex :D. ao3
fluff, very much fluffy.
tagging @allergictocanon @whiteberryx @15coldhotpockets @swimmingstudentchaos891
When Casey walks through the door, Alex is nowhere to be found. Her bag is hung up, her shoes are on the rack, but she’s not on the couch or at the table, and there’s no sign of her in the kitchen.
“Alex?” She says into the seemingly empty apartment. If the shoes and bag hadn’t been there she would’ve thought she’d just gone back to work in a rush, maybe to a crime scene, and forgot to tell her; that had happened before. Their presence gives her pause, and she quickly checks the lock for damage. There is no being too safe in this business, not in Casey’s opinion. She decides that nothing looks broken, so she sets down the bag of Chinese takeout she brought home and turns down the hallway.
“Al-ex,” she says again. Alex doesn’t usually spend much time in their bedroom, but Casey is going to check there when she hears a chchchchch sound from the bathroom. The freshly cleaned bathroom. Casey opens the door.
Alex is standing over the sink with a light pink face, a brush in hand covered in scrubbing powder. She swivels toward Casey with such force tiny globs of powder-water paste splatter onto the mirror and onto Casey. She raises both hands.
“Whoa, whoa, what did I do? Is there bleach in that, Alex this suit is new.”
“Do you see how dirty this sink is?” Alex says. She turns back to scrubbing the pristine sink.
“I don’t,” Casey says.
“It’s making me mad,” Alex says, putting more and more force into the circles.
“What did it do?” Casey asks. She knows what’s going on now.
“I told you, I can’t get it clean.” She moves on to the faucet, but the brush slips not once or twice but three times. “UGH,” she yells, throwing the brush down, sending splatters through the room again. She grips the edge of the counter so hard her knuckles turn white.
“Alex, what happened?” Casey says lovingly, putting her hand on Alex’s back and running it up and down.
“I can’t stand her,” Alex said. “She’s a fucking weasel, sneaky, conniving. You know, Serena warned me about her, and I still fell for it!”
Oh, Casey thinks. She should’ve guessed. Alex picks up the brush again and starts going after the countertops, but Casey reaches over behind her and eases it out of her hand, then sets it down, taking Alex’s hand in her own..
“It’s not your fault. She had a point this time and you and I both know it,” Casey says, resting her head on Alex’s shoulder.
“I still think that kid should be tried as an adult, and now I might lose on that, and not only will there be a serious lack of justice for a dead child, Cutter is going to be super annoying about it for weeks, maybe months.”
“You’re jumping to conclusions,” Casey says. She kisses Alex’s cheek and feels her relax.
“I just can’t afford to mess this up, and Hartley convinced me to make a mistake,” Alex says quietly.
“It’ll be okay. You’ll figure something out.”
Alex breathes in deeply and sighs. “I know,” she says.
“Good,” Casey says. “Now, I brought home Kung Pao chicken and I bet you’re hungry.”
“Starving,” Alex says with a smile. She kisses Casey. “Just let me finish—“
“No,” Casey interrupts her. “Hand over the brush.”
“Fine,” Alex says, placing the handle in Casey’s waiting palm.
“How did you even….”
“Learnt something new.”
Tara’s smirk is soft but proud and Alex laughs a little.
“Clearly….”
“So, coffee and chat or… would you rather I teach you how to ‘do that’?”
“Oh definitely the first.”
Alex teases.
“Not exactly cut out for whatever the hell that move was…”
“A high kick? Babe… if JJ can pull it off…”
“She used to be a cheerleader… and soccer player.”
“Still, I bet you could do it.”
Alex sighs then shrugs.
“Well, I did say I was up for learning something new…”
Later Tara will carry her to bed, curl around her as she settles with a slight whimper of pain and stroke soft fingers over the wounded muscle in her thigh, massaging it softly.
“I learnt something else… let me show you?”
She asks softly, still gently massaging Alex’s thigh until she settles, a soft sigh of contentment escaping her.
“There we go… just breathe Honey.”
Light Through The Darkness - Alex Blake/Emily Prentiss
A/N: What’s this? The start of @storiesofsvu ‘s Birthday Bingo? You betcha.
After Alex leaves the team celebration, and she does, dodging JJ’s happiness with Will in a way that Emily recognizes far too well, Emily follows her home. She has six hours to brighten the woman’s mood. Six slim hours.
She makes it work, of course. She’s a Prentiss, of course she does. Still, she can’t hide her triumphant laugh when Alex stares at the bunches of flowers she’s brought. Roses, of course, red as blood but supposed to be romantic. Despite all they see it’s clear Alex finds it romantic and that, Emily thinks, is all that matters.
Six hours. She barely has time to enjoy Alex’s happier mood, she barely has time to feel happy herself before she has to go. Still she leaves her number, her address, an invite to invade her life as much as she intends to invade Alex’s given a chance. It’s the first brightness in the dark in years and Emily has no plans to let it go so easily.
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