Alexandra Cabot does not get jealous. Why would she? She's been told by numerous people tonight alone that she's the most beautiful woman in the room, and she knows she's certainly one of the smartest. Just look at her conviction rates if you don't believe it. She's tough and she has power practically radiating out of her heels. So she's not jealous. And she's certainly not jealous over Casey Novak. God, no. It's not that at all. She just thinks the younger woman shouldn't be wasting her time with a prick of a defense attorney like Jason Whitaker. That's all. You see? Not jealous. Don't be ridiculous.
She sips on her wine, pretending to listen to Langan go on (and on, and on, and on...) trying to woo her away from prosecution again, knowing full-well he will never sway her. It's a lot harder to care when your clients are guilty. Sapphire eyes flicker across the room, locking onto the redhead with an almost palpable snarl.
"Alex? Alex?"
Gaze shifting back toward him, she plays it cool. "Sorry, I must have dozed off from the lackluster of your offer."
Trevor turns back, following the woman's gaze and laughs. "No one's buying it, Cabot. I've seen enough guilty faces to know one when I see one. If you want Whitaker, just go. Stake your claim. Novak's got nothing on you."
Horror creases her brow. Interested in Whitaker? She's not sure whether to laugh or excuse herself to vomit. The very idea is preposterous. And, in fact, Novak does have something on her. A lot of things, actually. First of all, she'd never be able to pull off that red hair. She tried it once in college and it was an instant regret. She looked completely washed out and a lot more like Anne of Green Gables than she ever wanted. Second, those eyes were like globes; like magical little worlds, so rich with color and vibrance. She would never admit it –– least of all to Casey herself –– but she could get lost in those eyes if she stared too long during a meeting. And third... Third, there was just this thing about her that she couldn't quite explain. She can't put her finger on it, but there's something about her that just makes her Casey Novak. Her humour, her spirit, her spunk; the way she cared so deeply, but never gave up.
If she's being completely honest, there have been more than a few times when she's caught herself day-dreaming about the other attorney. In the break room of the D.A.'s office when the redhead would come in to get coffee only to complain that no one in the building knew how to brew a good cup, she would tap a finger to her cheek and flash a tight smile, ignoring the flutter in her stomach that always came with her jokes. She would bite her tongue as her gaze lingered too long on Casey's lips after she took her first sip and licked off a drop of coffee. She'd pretend not to wonder what those lips would feel like pressed against hers. In the halls of the courthouse, she'd sometimes catch her gaze as she walked by. Casey would wish her luck, and Alex would halt for a heartbeat, eyes following as she passed, heart pounding just a little faster. In meetings, sometimes their hands would brush as they passed memos and binders around the table and she'd catch her breath from the sparks that flew out through her veins.
And maybe, once or twice, she caught herself thinking about Casey when she wasn't around. In her office, alone, tapping her pen against her notepad, she stared at the door and hope she might pop her head in to discuss a case or dodge Jack McCoy, as she had been apt to do. When she couldn't sleep at night, she might let her mind wander to the way Casey's skirt hugged her hips when she walked by that morning. When she was on that blind date with another, much more boring redhead who looked just enough like Casey that she might have briefly wondered if the night would have turned out differently if it had been her...
But that didn't mean anything, did it? Just because she liked spending time with her... Just because Jason didn't deserve that same attention –– attention she should be getting right now instead...
Oh God. She's jealous over Casey Novak Shit.
Alex grits her teeth. No. She doesn't do jealousy.
Something needs to be done about this. "Excuse me," she says to Langan, strutting off across the floor.
"Casey," she calls.
The redhead turns, shooting her a soft smile seemingly reserved just for her. It always makes her feel special. There's no sarcasm or irritation behind those smiles, as there are for almost everyone else. For a split second, she almost forgets what she's about to do.
Then he speaks. "Alex Cabot." Jason holds out his hand and she just looks at it a moment before offering hers in return. "Wow, now I've got the two prettiest women in the room at my side. How did I get so lucky?" he muses in his irritatingly charming tone.
"Actually, I need to speak with her for a moment, if you don't mind," Alex replies, laying a hand on his arm to gently steer him away. "I think Lionel was looking for you, anyway."
"Probably realized the mistake he made firing me after the DuVall case went south."
"Sure." Alex rolls her eyes, turning to walk back to Casey. "I thought you couldn't stand him," she whispers.
Her smile turns to a smirk as she reaches to dish more appetizers onto her plate. "You jealous?"
Teeth clench, but she doesn't answer. "I need to speak to you in my office."
"Why?" Casey pulls out her phone to make sure she didn't miss an important message about a case or something. "Did I do something I don't remember to get me in trouble?"
"No..."
"Then why can't you just talk to me here?" she asks, popping a cocktail wiener between her lips.
Alex takes her gently by the arm. There are those sparks again. "Just come with me, will you?"
"Not if you won't tell me what's up."
"I need to talk to you, but not in front of everybody."
Casey sighs, grabbing a few more tiny foods for her plate before following her lead into the dark, empty halls of the office. Heels click in sync over tiled floors as they rush to privacy. "What's so important that you had to drag me away from free shrimp?"
Alex shuts the door to her office behind them and takes a deep breath. "I..." Damn it. She hadn't gotten this far. What the hell is she actually supposed to say to her? That she loves her? Does she love her? Or is it just a crush? Is it even a crush? Does she really want to be with A.D.A. Novak? The same A.D.A. she had seen just fresh off of clerking, the one she had helped mold into a real lawyer... The one who spent late nights in her office and spilled fried rice all over her desk... The one who hugged her when she came back from WITSEC... Who only ever seemed to call her by her full name... The one who made her stomach flip and her heart pound and her hands go numb?
She swallows and stands completely straight, looking Casey right in the eye. Those damned eyes. "I like you," she announces.
Casey's brows furrow in confusion.
"I like you as much more than a colleague or a friend. I saw you with Jason tonight and I just––"
"Got jealous?"
Alex bites the inside of her cheek and refuses to say the words, but they both know the answer.
"I knew it."
"I couldn't watch you standing there flirting with him––"
"I was not flirting with Jason Whitaker!" Casey interjects, looking about as horrified as Alex had felt when Langan suggested the same about her.
"You weren't?"
"No," she replies. "God, no. I would rather slide down a banister of razor blades."
"That might be extreme."
"Maybe," she replies, a hint of a chuckle on her voice. "I saw you watching us."
"You did?"
"Yeah. He cornered me by the artichoke turnovers and I was going to make an escape, but I saw you glaring and hoped you might come to my rescue instead."
"You conniving––"
"It worked, didn't it?" Casey interrupts. "Alexandra..." She reaches for Alex's hand, brushing her thumb over the soft skin of its back. "I'm trying to say I like you, too."
She wants to seem like she's not surprised or relieved –– like she knew all along that would be her answer –– so she flashes a tight-lipped smile and steps closer so they're only a breath away from one another. Her free hand moves to rest on the small of Casey's back and she leans in to press their lips together. Softer than she imagined.
So, you see? Alexandra Cabot does not get jealous. She gets the girl.