A/N: Well, I guess I just watched too many superhero movies the last few weeks. I thought it would be awesome if Casey was a hero. And Alex would be the Pepper Potts to Tony Stark, the Gwen Stay/Mary-Jane Watson to Peter Parker, the Rachel Dawes to Bruce Wayne. Well, her love-interest ^^
So, let me know if you like it, then I will write another chapter.. ^^ Enjoy this one!
Every character belongs to Dick Wolf.
Prologue
I always wanted to fight justice. That's when I decided to go study law and become an employee at the DA's office. I'm a twenty-six year old Assistant District Attorney at the DA's office of Manhattan. I'm prosecuting white-collar criminals, which I'm pretty good at. And I won't admit such a thing easily.
Thing is, every time I lose a case, which brings a criminal back on the street, I die a little. I have to grind my teeth to not scream it out. It takes a lot of me to keep myself in control. I especially hate it when criminals escape from prison because of a mistrial. Those things could have been prevented. The worst is, when it's totally obvious that the defendant is guilty, and they walk.
Even from the other units, like 'Homicide' or 'Special Victims', I have a hard time dealing with victims who don't get their justice. A criminal should just suffer, and pay for what he did. He should be punished, like he punished his victims. At White Collar, the victims aren't emotionally harmed, that's a benefit compared to 'Homicide' or 'Special Victims'. They have to deal with living victims, scarred by their attack.
Well, actually, murdered victims cannot feel anything anymore, but their surviving relatives deserve justice. And if they have no relatives, they deserve to get their justice. Sometimes I wish I could do more than just prosecute criminals. I wish I could punish them. Especially the filthy bastards who are guilty, but get away with it. Who looked you in the eye with such a disgusting gaze, giving you chills to the bone.
Chapter I
I strike my last ball with my bat and walk back to the locker room. Softball was always my favorite sport. It's not only my bat-skills, but also the fact that I can run really fast. At school, I could run faster than all of the boys. At the school team, they called me Home Run Casey.
Actually, it's a very lame nickname, but it was the truth. I almost always hit a home run. When I was young, I had the opportunity to play for the national team, but I declined. I wanted to go to Law school, so batting for the team wasn't an option for me. Besides, it's a hobby, which I don't want to turn into my profession. It's my way to work off steam.
It's almost eleven in the evening, so it's already dark. Sometimes, after work, when I lose a case or have a bad day in general, I go batting. I imagine the ball being the defendant. Mostly, I lose track of the time and forget to eat.
My hunger made me stop batting this time. I get my stuff out of the locker and walk to the bicycle shed. I tie my bat on my back and put my bag at the back of my bike. I throw my leg over the saddle and start my ride home.
Normally, it's not judicious to drive through the streets of New York at night, but I'm not afraid. When I was a little kid, I wasn't scared of anything. My parents hated that. They were scared to death something would happen to me. I often climbed in trees, just because I could.
Sunken in thought, I pass an alley. Suddenly I hear a scream. A scream of a woman in need. A little New York-woman knows you should just go away, in case you get harmed yourself, but I just can't. This woman needs me. I can't just drive through in the knowledge that this woman might be our next 'Special Victims' case.
I get off my bike and get my bat from my back, approaching the alley. I carefully look in the alley, to see if the attacker is armed. I see he's not, and the woman is struggling. He's squeezing her throat, and trying to get her skirt off. She tries to get him off her, but he's simply too strong. I notice she's almost passing out, so I yell at the attacker.
"Just let her go!" I sound braver than I feel, but that's good. Maybe that will scare him away. That's when I realize I'm a woman too, and clearly, he's not afraid of women, and most certainly not when it comes to attack them. The woman passes out and he drops her amongst the trash. He slowly walks in my direction.
"And who do you think you are?" The guy speaks slowly, but loud. It's actually kind of threatening.
"What does it look like?" I ask, not willing to give my name and function away. I won't give him a reason to kill me instantly.
"Well, you look like.." He pauses to increase the frightening effect. "A woman who wants to be in trouble." He keeps walking in my direction, and I guess he's about halfway the alley. I know bastards like him try to scare people just by language, but I'm not afraid. He's got no gun. Actually, I should be worried that I'm lacking fear, but I have no time to think about that. "I like them bold and brave.."
He keeps walking until he's only ten feet away. That's the moment I choose to strike. I hit him in the stomach with my bat and he collapses.
"Bitch!" He yells at me, trying to get on his feet again. Before he does, I hit his foot, snapping in reaction to my bat.
"Just lay down." I tell him. "I won't hit you if you do. And if you think about trying to run, just don't. I run faster than you do." I push him down the ground with my foot. He grumbles a bit, but stays on the ground.
"You broke my foot." He says as he touches his foot.
"You deserve it." I just say.
I get the rope I always use to tie my bat to my back and tie up the man on the ground. I make sure he can't escape and hurry to the woman. I press my fingers to the artery in her neck and feel there's still a pulse. I squeeze her shoulders and she regains consciousness again.
"Are you okay?" I ask her, whispering. I'm not sure what he did to her.
"Is he gone?" She asks me. She's timid. Whatever this bastard did to her, it caused her to be like this. It would take her a hell of a lot time to get over this, to be able to walk down the streets again, without checking about a dozen time she's not followed.
"No, I tied him to that drainpipe." I point with my thumb behind me. She looks to where I pointed, and she seems a bit relieved.
"Who are you?" She asks me, a little bit suspicious. "You saved me. Why?"
"I'm an Assistant District Attorney at Manhattan's DA's office." I tell her. "Let's say, I was just at the right place at the right time." I pause to let her think. When I think the time is right, I decide it's better to call the cops. "We have to call for help. I call the police and paramedics to take care of you. Did he do.. things to you?" I hesitate a little before asking the last question. She shakes her head.
"No, he was about to, when you showed up." She grabs my hand. "Please, don't leave." She seems desperate.
"I'll stay with you through the whole thing, if you want me to." I tell her. I get my cell phone and call the cops.
Half an hour later, the alley is filled with NYPD and a few paramedics to check up on the woman. She still doesn't want to leave my side, but I'm okay with it. It's half past one and I still haven't eaten, but I'm not hungry anymore. I guess that's just the adrenaline. Two detectives approach us.
"We are detective Stabler and Benson from the Special Victims Unit." The man points at himself first, then at the woman. "We are gonna ask you some questions about your attack, is that okay with you?" Jenna, the name of the woman, nods. The guy named Stabler turns to me. "You saved her?"
"Kind of." I say, trying not to blush.
"They told me you work at the DA's office, is that true?" Detective Benson asks me.
"Yes, I'm an ADA. White Collar." I answer. She extends her hand, so I shake hers.
"You did a great job, counselor." She smiles. "If you don't mind, we have to talk to the victim."
"No I don't." I turn to Jenna. "You're gonna talk to them without me, just for a while, is that okay? I stay here." She nods.
I walk away from the threesome, in the alley. I walk to the wall and just look around a bit. I'm standing there for a few minutes, when a blonde woman walks in my direction. The way she walks, just.. No, there are no words to describe it. Speechless, and she didn't even say a word yet. She owns the room, including me. Well, there's not a room, but if there were, she would own it.
"I'm ADA Cabot. Special Victims." She says, extending her hand to me. I shake it, trying not to shake too much. I'm glad I'm leaning to the wall. I guess I would just collapse, right here, right now.
"I'm ADA Novak." I tell her. "White Collar." I add.
"I heard you saved the victim?" She asks me. Cabot.. Alexandra Cabot. That must be the ADA they call 'Ice Queen' at the office. But she sounds nice. I nod.
"Yes, I drove by on my bicycle and I heard a scream. I had my bat with me, so I hit him to stop him from attacking her. I suppose he was gonna rape her, because he was trying to take off her skirt."
"I bet he did. This month alone, he raped and smothered four other women in this neighborhood. This is the first one to survive." She pauses. "Because of you." She smiles. She's cute when she smiles. Oh, damn, I should stop thinking about this.
"Thanks." I say. It's like she took all the words I know and spread them out on the ground and I have to gather them first. I just can't think of sentences I want to phrase.
"You broke his foot." She simply tells me.
"Yes. He tried to run." I'm not sure if I'm defending myself, or just stating it.
"I don't think he's gonna walk well again." She smirks. "He deserves it."
"He does. That's what I told him when I did it." I smile weakly. My stomach grumbles. I hope she didn't hear.
"Are you hungry, counselor?" She asks me, grinning wide. She notices I flush a bit. "Don't worry, I skip dinner all the time. This job doesn't come without its disadvantages, right?"
"Indeed. I just forgot. I went batting after work and lost track of the time. I was just on my way home, when something intervened." I smile, a real smile this time. The blonde chuckles. Who would believe the Ice Queen chuckled? Well, after this, I would.
"What about we go get something to eat after this?" She asks me. Or did I just dream she asked? I'm not sure. I choose to believe she asked for real.
"Sounds like a good idea to me. But I'm afraid I have to wait until Jenna feels fine about me leaving." I answer. She nods. Actually, I'm dying to go get some food with the blonde. Although, I don't know if it's a clever idea, since I'm obviously attracted to her, and I don't know if that's a two-way street. She isn't just a stranger I can choose to just not see again, she works at the same office as I do. "Why haven't you eaten yet, by the way?"
"I was still at my office, working for a case.. I guess I just lost track of time too." She seems to think about something, staring at a point behind me. But that's ridiculous, since there's nothing behind me.
"Is something wrong? Forgot something?" I ask her. She seems distracted somehow. Maybe her mind is with the case.
"Huh? Oh, no. I was just pondering about something." But she doesn't tell me what she was thinking about. I decide to drop the subject, so I just nod. I see the detectives approach again, suggesting to ask me some questions too. They want to know if Jenna's description matches mine. I tell Cabot I'll be back in a few, before answering their questions.
Half an hour later, I'm ready. I persuaded Jenna into getting dropped off by the detectives, and after she thanked me about a hundred times for saving her, I'll turn to Cabot again. It's almost three o'clock in the morning. My hunger is coming back a little, since my adrenaline faded away for the biggest part. Almost all of the cops are gone, so the alley is as good as empty. I approach the blonde, and when she hears me coming, she turns to me.
"Ready?" She asks me. I nod.
I walk to my bicycle, almost forgotten it was still there. "I almost forgot it."
"Do you always go to work by bike?" The blonde asks, I guess she's genuinely interested.
"Yes, it keeps me fit. And it works better than coffee." I smile.
"True to that." She answers. "But since you're by bike, we can't take a cab. We can either walk or I'll sit on the back of your bike." She grins.
I shrug. "You can do that. I don't know if you'll survive that." I grin. "Well, walking seems fine by me. But that brings me to the question. It's three o'clock in the morning. What place in this neighborhood is still open?"
"Good question. I don't think there's a place." She starts pondering again. "My place is too far. What about yours?"
"It's about ten minutes by bike from here. I think half an hour if you walk." I bite on my lip. Now she's surely not gonna come.
"Well, good thing it's Friday, then and I don't have anywhere to be in the morning." She smiles. I exhale slowly. She's going with me. But then again, do I really want her to? "Can I sit on the back of your bike?"
"Of course. Are you sure? We can walk." I suggest one last time, but she seems determined. I never thought Alexandra Cabot would sit at the back of a bike, but then again, she surprised me a lot this evening. But she nods again, so I get my bike. She adjusts herself at the back and I start pedaling.
At first, it's a little clumsy, but when I eventually reach a proper speed, it goes better. I actually feel a little like a schoolgirl now, but that doesn't matter. We're just on our way, when it starts raining cats and dogs. A quarter of an hour later, we're at my place, both totally soaking wet.
"I'm so sorry. If you just went home in a cab, this wouldn't have happened." I apologize to the other attorney, but she grins. I'm a little bit confused, so I look questioning at her.
"Oh, no, it's okay, Novak. It's just that.." She just stops talking.
"What?" I ask. "By the way, call me Casey." I furrow my brows and fold my arms.
"Call me Alex. And.. I just thought it would be inappropriate to tell but.. Normally I wouldn't sit at the back of a bike.. And I wouldn't just go with someone I barely know. It's just that you're an ADA, and I'm an ADA.. Don't get me wrong, I have friends at the DA's office, but you're different. They wouldn't risk their lives to jump in an alley and beat a man up. I admire you. I don't admire people easily. But I guess you know that, because I have a reputation."
"Ice Queen." I whisper, almost inaudible. "And thanks."
"Yes. I'm kind of cold at the office. But most of my friends know I have a heart." She smiles weakly. I just nod, not sure what I have to say.
"Well, first.. let us get you out of those clothes. You can borrow some clothes of mine. I guess we have about the same size." I suggest. She's cold, I can tell. She has goose bumps. "You can take a shower if you want."
"No, it's okay. Just get me a pair of sweats or something." She says, rubbing her arms. I walk to my room and open the dresser. I get some sweats and a blanket. I walk back to Alex and hand them to her.
"You can change in the bathroom." I point at the door of the bathroom. While Alex changes in the bathroom, I change mine into something less wet and more comfortable. When I'm done, I walk to my kitchen to look in the fridge.
We talked and ate till the sun came up. At seven in the morning, we are still sitting on the couch. Alex just fell asleep, her head resting on my shoulder. I'm not sure if I have to push her away. I'm scared to wake her, but maybe she'll be mad if I don't wake her.
I watch her sleep. I know it's creepy, but it's just hard to avert my gaze. She's just cute when she's asleep. It doesn't take long before I fall asleep myself. It's almost one in the afternoon when I wake up. I'm laying on the couch, Alex laying with her head on my chest. I carefully try to slide off the couch without waking her, but of course that fails. She wakes up, slowly opening her eyes.