A/N: First time writing for this fandom... just a short one to dip my toe into the water as it were. Not sure when this is set - probably around s13 or later.
Roses. A big, extravagant bunch of fancy red roses, all tied up with a simple black ribbon, and a notecard.
Casey hates them. Not just because years later she still gets a shiver at the thought of a flower delivery, but because they're so damn cliche. And she loathes cliches. Also, they take up precious space on her already over-flowing desk. And draw attention to her that she doesn't want.
They're the worst present in the world. But that's kind of the point.
She opens the little card and lets out a huff of laughter, unable to stop the corner of her mouth from quirking up even though she tries. This sums them up, she thinks. Their relationship is not so much romantic as it is a constant battle for dominance, a back and forth that gives the court a run for its money. There are moments, even when they're alone and naked, and she's watching Alex sleep, where Casey wonders if they aren't going to end up tearing each other apart at some point. Sure, it's fun, the constant push and pull - silly arguments (no, debates) over too many glasses of wine, and Alex working her hardest to get Casey hot and bothered at the most inappropriate times, with text messages, and even an email to her work computer that she'd had to pass off as spam - but at some point this bond between them has to snap, or one of them has to break. It's only a matter of time.
It is fun, though. And even as she tosses the little card into her drawer and closes it, dumping the cellophane wrapped bouquet into a pen pot at the end of the desk and not bothering with water, Casey can't help the little smile that settles on her face as she goes back to work.
In her lunch break, she makes a phone call, can't resist feeling a little bit smug as she hangs up, heading out of the office to grab food before her next arraignment.
Alex is in the midst of a heated phone conversation when the box arrives, but she waves the delivery man in, mouths a 'thanks' as he sets it down on her desk.
The argument goes on for so long, her pacing around her office with the phone pressed to her ear, forcing herself not to curse, that she forgets about the box. She hates cases like this; they set deep into her bones and leave her unable to relax until they're over. She hates phone calls with rich jerks who think they know more about the law than she does just because their pockets are lined, and they have a dick between their legs.
Alex wants to throw the phone when she finally hangs up. She settles for mumbling under her breath as she goes back to her desk, scribbles a note to remind herself of the meeting she's just arranged.
The plain white box is sitting there amongst her neatly organised files and notes, and she succumbs to intrigue, lifting the lid carefully.
Even without a note, there's no doubt in her mind who sent these, and she can't help the smile that creeps over her lips, even as she rolls her eyes.
"Cronuts, really?"
She says the word like it's dirty, like she doesn't want it in her mouth.
It makes Casey laugh.
"You know I hate those things. Something's either a donut or a croissant. It can't be both."
Casey presses the phone between her ear and her shoulder, smiling at Munch on her way through the squad room, pulling files out of her briefcase. He raises his eyebrows at her, obviously not used to seeing her in such a good mood.
Figures.
"Tell that to the bakery. Did you know they're trademarked?" Casey asks, as she weaves through desks, stopping by Olivia's empty chair.
"Your honour, she's deflecting,"
"Eurgh, don't use courtroom jargon on me, you know it rubs me up the wrong way."
Alex chuckles, and Casey can picture her on the other end of the line perfectly, sitting with one leg crossed over the other, at her desk, one corner of her mouth turned up, that light in her eyes she only gets when she's teasing her.
"Let's see which way I rub you up tonight," Alex says, her voice low and breathy, and it takes all of Casey's energy to keep a straight face as she hangs up, slides her phone into her pocket, and turns to face Detective Benson.
The next time, it's a big box of expensive belgian chocolates. Heart shaped. Gift wrapped with a huge pink bow, and far more cellophane than is necessary. Casey narrows her eyes at it, before dumping the whole load into her bottom desk drawer.
Not that she isn't going to eat them. She absolutely is. But the roses are still taking over half her office, and she doesn't need to draw any more attention to herself.
When the huge white teddy bear shows up at the office, Alex glares at it. Then, as quickly as it enters the room, it leaves it, redirected to the children's home three blocks away.
She calls Casey, even though she's swamped with work and Casey probably is too.
"Truce?" she asks, omitting a hello.
"Truce."
"I'm sorry I forgot your birthday," Alex says, later, when they're nestled in the back of a cab, her lips close to Casey's ear, fingers playing with hers in her lap.
Casey sighs, eyes closed, "I'm sorry for being such a bitch about it."
Alex's lips find a soft spot behind Casey's ear and presses a kiss there, Casey snuggling deeper into her. They used to be more careful than this, more aware of the consequences of getting caught. They used to be a lot of things.
Now, they're mostly just exhausted. And happy. Weirdly happy.
"Can I confess something?" Alex whispers.
Casey opens her eyes, twists to look at her, "sure."
Alex's eyes meet hers in the dark, hooded but serious.
"I liked the cronuts."
Laughing huskily, Casey draws her closer, kissing her softly on the lips, "of course you did."