Disclaimer: I don't own law and order, or any of the characters, though I do presently own a longing to own a meerkat.
Synopsis
Honor. It's relative. It means many different things to many different people. Casey Novak has always had responsibilities to honour, but what happens when those responsibilities become twofold and tug in two opposite directions?
Then, doing the honourable thing doesn't come so easy.
A/N So yeah, I really should update my other fics. So sue me. I have written some ninja chapters for them, however, they are way too far ahead in the story timeline so I need to write back to them. Bear with me!
Anyhoo, I wrote this sometime ago and decided I should expose it to the general public. It's something a little different, I'll freely admit I'm not precisely sure where it will lead, but, hey. I needed to post something! I haven't settled on any pairings as of yet, so I'm very open to any suggestions you lovely folk might have, I am all ears (so long as it's not EO…no disrespect to the pairing, I just don't write it, never will, too many other people do it, and in a far better way than I ever could). Also, since I'm not dead set on the plot, anything you'd like to see happen, challenge me to add it in. I'll find a way. Unless it involves badgers.
Ahem. I'll shut up now. On with the story!
Chapter one: Life and its convenient parables
Sitting atop the concrete and behemoth skyscraper, wind stinging cold against her ashen cheeks, feet dangling over the edge toward an insurmountable drop to the hurrying streets below, Casey felt like a kid again; sitting on a dinner table chair, tiny legs unable to do anything other than kick futilely against air until a parent scooped her up, or she summoned the guts to take matters into her own hands and take the plunge.
In so many ways, Casey was in exactly the same situation now, scaled up to adult size.
Life and its fucking convenient parables.
In the absence of a suitable ash tray, Casey allowed the cigarette butt to flitter away into the wind, gliding in every which direction but inexorably downward as it rode conflicting wind streams. Sure she was littering. Casey Novak, an officer of the court, the voice of the victims, an advocate for justice, was herself breaking the very law she had sworn to uphold.
Maybe this little violation was just her testing the water before diving into the icy lake of perjury that lay ahead.
That is, if she went ahead with it.
Which is what she'd spent over an hour, freezing her ass off on the roof of One Police Plaza trying to decide on. Whilst she was still no closer to her major decision, she had come to the less dramatic conclusion that perhaps this was an argument she could have with herself in the warm confines of her office.
Just as she was about to remove herself from her gargoyle like station, she heard the roof door open with an aching creak. Perhaps one of the Detectives of the unit had decided that their Attorney had been playing in high places without safety rails for a worrying amount of time, and thought it prudent to ensure their resident Legal Counsel hadn't attempted to break the airspeed record for lawyers in the Tri-state area in the space between the ledge and the pavement below. Or maybe it was a beat cop, who had, in the mere moments which had passed since her littering violation, managed to find her erroneously discarded cigarette leftovers, finger print it, matched it to her Bar Association records and had now arrived to place her under arrest.
She halfway hoped it was the latter, it would make her life infinitely simpler.
The door clicked shut and the sharp clack of footsteps on concrete roof gained volume as the new arrival walked to her side. Casey didn't bother to turn around, keeping her jade eyes half-lidded and directed aimlessly at the cityscape.
"Quite a view," A familiar, raspy voice said cheerily as the man parked himself next to her on the ledge, dangling his legs over the edge, mirroring her own stance. He looked somewhat comical, early fifties, with close cropped black hair greying at the temples, suited and booted with a trench coat to break the wind, tapping his heels together like a kid.
"Something tells me you didn't come all this way to talk scenery," she muttered reaching into her jacket and withdrawing a green and white twenty pack of Marlboro Menthols, thumbing the box open to find she was down to three. It had been a long day.
Remembering her manners, Casey offered one to the man, who wrinkled his nose in opaque disapproval.
Casey rolled her eyes, lighting up her own with a practiced grace, then returning her silver monogrammed lighter to her pocket, "I picked up the habit from you, you can't exactly disapprove."
The man laughed a little at her irked response, "I don't, but menthols Casey? God, those things should be illegal."
"Speaking of things which aren't legal…" Casey began, only for the man to interject.
"Fine, lets get to business," his voice took on a cold tone, and his cadence lost its playful bounce, "you know what your duties are, I don't expect you to agree with it, you just need to do it."
Casey sighed, expulsing a lungful of potentially harmful smoke. She was probably exposing him to second-hand smoke, and it gave her a strange sense of glee. He, after all, was no stranger to endangering her life.
"I am an officer of the court…" Casey began again, only for the man to cut in a second time.
"But first and foremost, you are a Novak. That will always come first," He said, steely, grip tensing next to him on the ledge.
Casey licked her lips, bracing herself to ask the next question sticking to the back of her throat, "and if I don't?"
He shrugged, giving a slightly saddened pout, "I came as a courtesy, next time it will be Johnny. Of course, I like you, but Johnny…"
"He likes knives, power tools, and the suffering of others, yeah, I get it." Casey barked out curtly, "warning received, loud and clear."
He smiled. No smirked. It was definitely a smirk; self-assured, smug and didn't quite reach his eyes, "good. Now do what you have to do, and then forget about it."
Still staring listlessly, Casey felt the presence depart from her side, footfalls sounding off as her visitor departed.
"Always a pleasure Dad," Casey called after him, making no attempt to hide the ire in her tone.
"Any time baby girl," He called back just before the door swung shut behind him with a hefty clunk.