Liv didn't see her in the morning. Casey had court, she remembered. One of their cases, it was expected to take a while.
She didn't hear from her in the afternoon. Turned out she hadn't been in court at all and Judge Petrovsky was pissed. Failing to appear in court with no notice was grounds to be held in contempt and if there was anything Lena Petrovsky held Casey Novak in, it was contempt. Now, it would actually be on paper.
In spite of herself, Liv worried. She called Casey's office a few times because she didn't have time to stop by. The day was busy, the criminals were busier. She could have used three warrants, but she had to get them from somebody else. Wherever Casey was, it wasn't at work.
"Hey, Elliot," she called to her partner across her desk, "any idea why Novak didn't show up in court today?"
He shook his head and, flipping through a case file, said, "No idea. She's been out of touch all day. Didn't you hear? Seligman is raising hell. A 2 p.m. no show, I'm expecting him to issue a bench warrant any minute now."
"That's what I thought," Liv said, mostly to herself. "It's not like her, you know, not to come to work and not to call in. Especially if she has court dates scheduled."
Elliot was idly tapping some keys. "You wanna swing by her place if we have some time?"
Liv shook her head. "Nah, I'm sure everything's all right. If I don't hear from her by the end of the day, I'll stop by on my way home."
"All right," he said and went back to typing in earnest. She could hear him thinking, Police reports don't update themselves.
She groaned next, thinking to herself, No, they don't and got back to work, all the while wondering what had become of her ADA.
Liv had the misfortune of having to wonder all day. Casey never came in, Casey never called. The criminals didn't stop dropping victims long enough for her to hit Casey's home phone more than twice and her cell once. No answer on all counts.
Around three in the afternoon, she considered sending a couple of uniforms over. Just to check, she assured herself, even though she wasn't really sure at all. It took an almost physical effort to stifle the urge. Understandably, her partner noticed.
"Relax," he said and she tried. It wasn't really any wonder that she didn't have an astounding social life outside of work—she was terrible at relaxing.
It was six in the evening when they closed the book, early for them. They couldn't quite believe the day was over, but they knocked on wood every conspicuous step toward the door. She said goodbye to Elliot with a wave and was gone before he could inquire about what she'd do tonight. Chances were good that he already knew; they'd been partners long enough.
The drive was a bitch. She wasn't used to being in rush hour traffic anymore. Generally, rush hour came and went without her while she burned the midnight oil on a case. Today, however, she was in the thick of it; today, she didn't really want to be.
By the time she pulled up outside of Casey's apartment, she'd spent forty-five minutes in bumper-to-bumper traffic and she thought that somebody had better be bleeding for her trouble. It wasn't that she thought Casey owed her an explanation, it was that Casey had promised she'd be there and the idea that she suddenly wasn't was simply too poignant for Liv to stand. So, here she was.
Looking up from the street below, she could see that the lights were off. She pulled out her phone and dialed Casey's number inside. She was hoping she'd answer and come down to let her in. The phone rang five times and went to voicemail again. So much for that, she thought and climbed the stoop to wait for someone to open the door.
It took her maybe twenty seconds to recall that getting into places people didn't want her in was her day job. She scanned the list for a familiar title and buzzed the super. Hindley Earnshaw was a quiet bastard to say the least, but he was a bastard.
"Why don't you buzz her yourself?" he asked snidely. Evidently, she was interrupting his dinner as she could hear him chewing over the speaker.
She said, her temper barely restrained, "I would if she were answering."
"Maybe she doesn't want to talk to you. It happens."
Liv wiled away the seconds tapping her service weapon and mentally calculating the number of bullets it would take to put the lock out of its misery. "Mr. Earnshaw, if it turns out that something's happened to Assistant District Attorney Novak and you've stood between me and her getting the help she needs, your ass will be on the line, because I will put it there. Do you understand me?"
He didn't speak but she assumed she was understood when the building's front door unlocked with a buzz. She slipped inside and, too impatient to wait for the elevator, took the stairs to Casey's floor.
Once she reached the right door, she stepped out into a dimly lit hallway lined with more doors. Everything appeared normal at first glance and when she reached her ADA's door. She knocked once. Nothing. She knocked a second time. Still, nothing. She tried the knob; the door didn't give an inch. Liv thought that had to be a good sign, she hoped it was a good sign.
"Casey, you home?" she called out to her wayward colleague. As before, she didn't get a response. "Honey, it's Olivia. If you can hear me, please answer me." Liv pressed her ear to the door and didn't hear a sound. She growled in frustration. She had two options, she could break down the door or she could go to the super and have him let her in. Neither was particularly appealing and the second would take longer than Casey had if she really was hurt.
Therefore, she settled for option C: picking the lock. She owed a conspiracy theorist a favor for reminding her how that worked. Two minutes and a click later, she was standing in the entryway to Casey's Novak's humble abode. All seemed normal from where she stood.
She closed the door behind her and began to work her way through the apartment, her hand poised preemptively over her sidearm. Casey's heels lay abandoned in the middle of the hall, she learned painfully with a "God damn it, Casey!" She ducked into the kitchen and found a solitary mug of coffee sitting on the counter. Pressing the back of her hand against the ceramic, it was cold to the touch. She noticed dirty dishes in the sink and Casey's purse on the kitchen table. As far as she could tell everything was accounted for. Even in the living room, her coat and briefcase sat undisturbed on the couch. Casey had been here, no question, but where had she gone, Liv asked herself. In seeking an answer, she turned her attention toward the last place left to check.
Casey Novak's bedroom seemed like her inner sanctum. The door was firmly shut unlike those leading to the other rooms of her apartment. As she approached it, Liv could hear music playing on the stereo. This must have been where Casey'd gone, she thought. She twisted the knob, gave the door a push, and stepped inside.
She was right.
Spread out facedown in bed was her ADA, sleeping like a baby to the sounds of Shania Twain turned up high. Liv wouldn't have been able to hear her phone either at this volume. Or her alarm, which it turned out wasn't even on. Casey had slept the day away because she left her music up too loud and her alarm off. It was almost endearing. Almost.
After switching off the stereo, she put a hand on Casey's shoulder, one of the only parts visible from under her comforter, and gave her a gentle shake. Casey mumbled to herself, groaned, and stayed asleep. "Casey," Liv called in a singsong voice. "Wake up, Casey."
"No," she muttered, still pretty much asleep.
"Ms. Novak, if you don't wake up this instant I will hold you in contempt," Liv said in her best imitation of Lena Petrovsky.
"Whatever you say, your honor." Casey seemed to smirk, even when half-unconscious.
"Seriously, Case, I'm pretty sure you're getting arrested tomorrow." Liv was only partly joking. Petrovsky had been truly pissed when Casey didn't make her court appearance. The defense, on the other hand, had been jumping for joy.
"I'm…sorry," Liv heard at the same moment as one bloodshot eye peeked open.
"Tell it to the judge," she whispered, suddenly unbelievably sympathetic for how bad Casey must have been feeling to sleep this long.
"The judge?" Casey shook her head as if to clear cobwebs. "What jud—" Liv winced as Casey's frown transformed to an expression of abject horror. "The judge: Petrovsky. Court: today. Oh, God." She dropped her head back onto the pillow. "I have court." She lifted it back up to look at Liv—who shifted aside so that she could see the clock—again. Her face blanched like it had the night before, only Liv didn't find it nearly funny this time. "I had court, right?"
"Right," Liv offered with a grimace.
She rubbed a hand over her eyes. "Okay, well, tomorrow's gonna suck. No sense in rushing to the worst day of my professional life." With a shuddering breath, Casey rolled over and pulled the covers—the suspiciously soft covers—over her head.
Liv tugged halfheartedly at the spruce green comforter. "Is that really the best thing to do right now?" She imagined that running to the judge's house and begging for mercy with roses and chocolate would be unsuccessful.
"Screw the best thing," came Casey's muffled response," it's the only thing to do right now." She sighed deeply, but it sounded a lot like a sneeze from where Liv was sitting.
"Bless you."
"I'm gonna need it. I'm so fired." She had curled up in a ball with her head in her hands. Liv laid a comforting hand on what was probably her back.
Liv might have been more comforting if she actually disagreed. "It's okay, Casey. Everything's okay." Things were certainly better than they'd been when Liv thought Casey was hurt. At least she was safe and whole; at least there was that.
"It's really not, Liv. Liz Donnelly can't stand me. She'll take any opportunity to show me the door. What's that sound? Oh, it's opportunity, knocking."
"I can't change your mind about sticking your head in the sand, then?"
A brief pause and, then, another sigh. "No."
"Then, I guess I'll let you get some sleep. You have a long day ahead of you tomorrow." Liv rubbed the spot on the comforter where she thought Casey's head might have been. "Night, Casey. And set your alarm this time." Something that might have been a yawn sounded and the lump formerly known as Casey Novak shifted under the covers. Liv got up to leave and had just about made it to the door when she heard that voice again.
"Hey, Detective, how about a test drive?" Liv's eyebrows shot up in spite of her and she turned around to see her sleepy strawberry blonde holding back the covers. It was less of an offer really, more of a wry smile with a "How about it?" attached.
"Casey—"
She stretched lazily and repositioned herself just enough to give the detective a look. "You said you wanted to see the sheets in action; here's your shot. Besides, you never get days this early. Come on, take advantage," she yawned. "Get a good night's sleep and tomorrow I'll make breakfast. It'll be good, promise." She seemed sincere, if totally out of it, and Liv was at a loss to refuse. She really was adorable this exhausted.
"Okay."
Casey smiled crookedly. "Good." Then, she nestled down between the sheets and immediately nodded off.
Liv mentally chided herself for falling prey to her ADA's weary persuasion. There was no way a well-rested Casey Novak would have offered to share her bed with Liv for the night. Regardless, someone had and Liv had accepted.
Sighing, she undressed down to her undershirt and skivvies and, after placing her badge and service weapon within reach on the nightstand, crawled into bed next to her slumbering colleague—friend, maybe more.
She was surprised to find Casey had been dead-on with the Egyptian cotton. Even having had someone curled up in them all night, they were still cool to the touch. So was Casey, who'd left Liv just enough of the covers not to get goose bumps.
Liv kept her distance, but as she fell asleep, her fingers found the grooves between Casey's ribs and settled in. Casey settled closer.
It was nice. Just nice.
