Title: Curious
Author: reveller
Rating: PG
Summary: This winter seems colder than the last.
—
She sits with her knees drawn tight to her chest, a cup of hot coffee warming her freezing hands. This winter seems colder than the last, or maybe her skin just isn't as thick anymore.
The television is on, but it seems like it always is. Halfway through the evening news, she's decided that she's bored out of her mind, but not wanting to move her cold hands for even a second to change the channel, she waits it out.
She doesn't need the forecaster to tell her it's below freezing outside and that it'll only get colder. After an involuntary shudder and a roll of her eyes, a face with glasses appears on her screen and her breath gets caught in her throat.
She decides to sleep early, but her eyes fall upon the clock beside her bed for what she counts to be a third time this night. It reminds her of all the years of similarly long and fitful nights and brings to mind how strange it felt to sleep again, without waking up in beads of sweat or tussled sheets, when she was removed from the bar.
Turning to her side and away from the blinding red numbers, she doesn't know if she's glad that she's finally out or pissed because she'd acted like a moron. At last, she goes with the latter, realizing that her life has become exceeding dull and that seeing the face of a certain blonde attorney on television has suddenly made her long for something she can't quite place.
—
She wraps the scarf around her neck as she walks down the courthouse steps. Though she only has half an hour for lunch today before her next arraignment, she makes it a goal to sit down with a nice hot cup of coffee at her favorite café.
An unusually busy hour, she navigates her way to a small table near the back with her coffee in hand. Her eyes immediate lock onto the files she's brought with her, but in the moment she looks up from her papers, she sees a familiar blue coat moving through the crowd and out the door.
In court, she requests remand, but she hears little of her usual fervor as she speaks. She blames it on the coffee because it doesn't seem to have done much to keep her warm on such a cold day.
Her mind drifts from having to complete her usual stash of paperwork to the clock on her desk. Folded hands beneath her chin, she remembers how quick they were to shuttle her out of the state after the trial had ended. And when she'd started work as some lowly clerk, she can't forget how she'd check the time every so often and wonder what was happening back in Manhattan.
However, she doesn't remember whether she'd slept any better those days than when she was still a prosecutor. She returns to her paperwork when she decides that it doesn't matter, but recalling having spotted a certain redheaded ex-attorney earlier today, she can't help but wonder if she was the only one with sleepless nights.
—
The fourth time Casey wakes is because of the incessant ringing beside her bed. Thinking it's another mindless survey or credit card scam calling in the middle of the night, she's reluctant to answer, but by the last ring, Casey finds herself holding the phone to her ear.
The voice across the line sounds almost surreal in the quiet of her bedroom and even more so once Casey realizes who it is.
Apologizing for having called so late, Alex asks if she'd waken Casey and they both know she's lying when Casey says she didn't. Alex doesn't sound entirely urgent when she suggests that they meet tomorrow for coffee, and Casey isn't so reluctant as she agrees before letting out a yawn.
Alex doesn't choose to sit at the same table where she saw Casey last, but she does. Her hands are wrapped around a cup of coffee while another one sits across from her on the table, and though she isn't particularly cold, Alex begins to tremble just slightly.
Pulling her coat tighter around her body, Casey watches her breath turn to mist as she breathes heavily through her mouth. Although she's late by only a few minutes, Casey can't seem to shake her rising heart rate.
They see each other simultaneously through the glass panes of the coffeehouse. From the moment Casey steps through the door to when she takes a seat facing Alex, their gazes never falter.
Alex quickly motions that the cup on the table is Casey's and muses that she hopes she remembered how Casey takes her coffee from the time they'd spent preparing Alex's testimony. With a modest smile and a sip of her drink, Casey answers truthfully that Alex has a good memory and thanks her.
For a while, they both enjoy the warming of their hands and the quiet atmosphere of the café, but they both soon realize that the air between them just continues to stiffen with each passing second. Adjusting her glasses, Alex is the first to speak again.
When she asks Casey what she's been doing these days, Casey looks down at the drink in her hands, averting her eyes before taking in a breath. She says that she doesn't do much anymore and certainly not as much as she'd like, and Alex knows that this is probably true.
Casey admits that law is all she's ever really known and this "break" from it hasn't been as easy as she'd thought. Nodding in accord, Alex says that she's familiar with the feeling.
To shift the focus of the conversation, Casey mentions she's heard that Alex is working sex crimes again. Alex offers an apprehensive confirmation and says it's nice to be back, but Casey can see that there's more to it than that.
Alex continues to say that she's grateful to be finally done with the appeals courts. After another year under a second assumed name, Alex was dying to practice law again, but appeals wasn't exactly what she had in mind.
Unable to help herself from chuckling, Casey notes that it must've sucked. Alex answers wholeheartedly that it totally did, but their tepid laughter soon transforms into an another uneasy wave of silence.
For lawyers, the rest of their conversation remains unusually strained as Alex avoids mentioning the word "disbarment" and Casey staves off the subject of the Witness Protection Program. From one light nicety to another, their halfhearted smiles and latent rivaling egos leave them both curious as to what exactly made either of them meet here today.
Neither of them bring it up, though, because neither of them have an answer. However, when they inevitably run out of colloquial topics to barely discuss, they agree to call it a day.
As a last note, Casey wishes Alex luck with the convictions and instructs her to nail those dirty bastards. Alex smirks at the remark before grabbing her coat from her chair and saying that they won't even know what hit them.
When they both step outside, Casey reaches for Alex's arm, stopping her in mid-stride, and states bluntly that they should get together again sometime. Despite the temperature, she doesn't seem to feel so much of the cold anymore when Alex smiles and promptly agrees that they should.
—