A/N: Thank you so much to everyone for your kind words :) I hope this next chapter is enjoyable.
It's not that she watches Casey on purpose, it's just that their hotels are very close together, and there really isn't much else for her to do now that she's read the same copy of US Weekly, that's been left behind the desk for god knows how long, from cover to cover six times.
And she can't help the fondness that's creeping into her, even after just a few hours. It's probably just that Casey reminds her of home - in fact, it's definitely that - but when she sees that strawberry blonde ponytail bobbing up and down as Casey jogs past, there's this ache, this longing in Alex's chest that takes her by surprise.
It's New York that she longs for. That's it. It isn't the way Casey's eyebrows raise and she laughs when she finally sees Alex in her uniform, waving goofily at her past a stream of tourists. It isn't the angle of her jaw, the soft, pale expanse of her neck revealed as she gulps down water, before taking off towards the beach. It can't be any of those things.
Not because she hasn't slept with women. But, because, Casey, is… well, Casey. Casey Novak who was a running joke around the DA's office for being too enthusiastic, for not thinking things through before execution. Sure, she'd grown up - Alex could see that, had seen that when she'd won her attempted-murder case - but a part of her couldn't stop thinking of Casey as that over-eager kid she'd first met, the one who everyone in the office referred to as 'Softball Novak'.
Alex is pulled out of her thoughts by the heavy front doors of her hotel being pushed open, and for a second she scolds herself for not concentrating, for not being as good a host as she could be. Sure, it's hardly a life or death job, but she still wants to do it to the best of her ability because that's what Alex Cabot does. And even if she's Christine Norbraten now, her mentality is the same. But then she sees who it is, and she relaxes.
"Hey," Casey beams. She's sweaty and red-faced in her running clothes, and Alex is met again with this weird inner tug, again, that she can't shake.
"What brings you here?" Alex asks, eyebrows knitted together in a half frown, though the smile on her lips gives her away.
"What time do you finish work?"
Glancing at her wrist watch, Alex is relieved to see it's later than she thought, "In about… forty five minutes?"
"Perfect," Casey tells her, "see you then,"
And just like that, she disappears again, waving stupidly behind her, leaving Alex entirely baffled.
Sure enough, Casey arrives back dead on the hour, just as Alex is signing out. Alex raises an eyebrow at the sight of her, leaning against the wall of the hotel, licking ice cream from her hand.
"Hi," she says, cautiously.
Casey smiles sheepishly, "it's not quite Mr Softees but…" she hands across a dripping ice cream, the kind with strawberry sauce and sprinkles that Alex hasn't had since she was a kid.
"You are always a surprise, you know that?" Alex tells her, before licking at the ice cream, hesitantly.
"I told you I was coming," Casey argues.
"Just… ice cream? Really? You remembered that?"
Casey shrugs her shoulders, stepping off from the wall and taking a big bite of ice cream. A smear of sauce lands just above her top lip, but before Alex can tell her, Casey's quickly licking it away, and damn, Alex can't quite drag her eyes away quick enough for that to not be a thing.
"Alex?" Casey teases, smirking at her, "you coming?"
And Alex hasn't heard her own name, hasn't been addressed by it, in such a long time, that it makes her stomach flutter. She nods, quickly falling into step with the redhead, as they head along the winding road down towards the beach front.
It's just beginning to get dark, the sun hanging low in a sky that's a swirl of greys and blues and pinks. It's still busy though, the restaurants no doubt swarming with people who've spent all day burning on the beach, longing for a large glass of wine, their children tired and grumpy. Alex would usually go off in the opposite direction, find herself an empty cafe up in the hills away from the tourists trap. She's happy walking along by Casey's side in easy silence, though;
"You seem a lot less paranoid about being caught with me," Alex says, once her ice cream is practically down to just a cone.
"You say that like this is some sordid love affair over frozen dessert."
Alex swallows, can't quite stop a: "you mean it isn't?" from slipping out, and then immediately regrets it when she sees how quickly Casey freezes up. It's not like there hadn't been… rumours. The joke practically made itself. But, saying it out loud, and to her face… seems cruel. Alex wants to apologise, but then maybe it's better to just not mention it.
Anyway, Casey made the joke first. She walked into it.
"You don't worry about being found?" Casey eventually asks, after Alex has spent an uncomfortable length of time watching her nibble her way around her cone.
Alex shrugs, "Emily spent all her time hiding and worrying… I turned over a new leaf when I got here. Besides, you put him away for me…"
"You're still in protection though," Casey says, softly, "there's still people out there looking for you."
"Probably."
"God, you're infuriating you know that? How do you manage to look so nonchalant all the damn time?"
Alex's lips quirk up into a smirk, "it's a talent."
"Well excuse me for caring too much."
Casey turns to leave, the whole atmosphere of their conversation having taken an icy turn, and not as a result of the gelato. Alex catches her by the arm before she has a chance to get away, and in the blink of an eye they're standing facing each other, eyes locked, faces just slightly too close.
"I didn't mean it like that," Alex says, "I don't like the implication that I don't care, because I do."
Casey sighs, and her eyes dart to Alex's mouth, then back up again, a split-second movement that Alex isn't sure she didn't imagine, before she breaks contact and pulls away.
"You're better at the whole compassion thing than I am," Alex continues, and Casey snorts at this, digging her hands into her pockets, her ice cream cone long finished.
"Sorry, I don't believe that for a second. You know what everybody in the DA's office thinks? What the squad thinks? That I care more about sports than I do victims."
"Casey…"
"God, I was stupid to think this was a good idea, I just thought that you were lonely and I…"
Alex raises an eyebrow, "I'm not lonely. Home sick, yes, but there's not really anything anybody can do about that. It's a fact of life for me. But I am not lonely."
She realises as soon as it's come out of her mouth - before that, actually - that it's a lie, that she's not used to being so easily read, and that the automatic reaction to that is aggression. Of course she's lonely. She hasn't bothered trying to make lasting relationships in this town, hasn't even settled for a hook-up with a stranger, a one night stand. She's purposely shut herself off from everybody she works with, has avoided friendship like the plague. A smile and a nod, polite conversation with the old lady who runs her favourite cafe is about as far as she'll let anything go. It's less painful that way.
Still, the fact that Casey can see that, can see through her that easily…. that bothers her.
"You're right. Maybe we shouldn't do this," she says, eventually, after realising that Casey's staring at her, clearly expecting her to continue. Casey's shoulders sag, just marginally, and Alex can't help but wonder if it's out of disappointment or relief.
"I don't want to argue with you. I'm on vacation from arguing," she says, with the smallest of smiles.
This can go one of two ways. Either, they call it a night, forget any of this ever happened. Alex goes back to her apartment, Casey heads back to her hotel, and they forget they even saw each other. She might still catch a glimpse of her, a full head taller than most women, going past the hotel in the morning, but it will only be for a couple of days.
Or, they can forget about the arguing, try to salvage the evening so they don't both end up spending their nights alone in front of the television.
"Do you want to get a drink?" Alex asks, eventually.
Casey looks surprised, but relaxes, nods.
"I know a place."
Where the sea front is filled with gaudy bars, restaurants with balconies hanging over the beach, places where you can hardly hear yourself talk over loud music and even louder customers, up in the hills there are more quiet, pleasant places to get a drink. They aren't devoid of tourism - nowhere is in this town - but they are less talked about. Pushing the door open on a little building down a side road, Alex allows a sigh of relief when she sees how empty the place is.
"This is nice… familiar," Casey says, smirking, "not quite where I pictured you."
"Not many country clubs around here," Alex responds, dryly.
She knows what Casey means though. This is the closest thing to a cop bar in New York City that Alex could find. The slightly sticky feel of the drinks menu, the distinct smell of smoke… it makes her think of home.
"I'll have a whiskey, on the rocks," Casey tells her, without even looking at the menu. When Alex raises her eyebrow, she smirks, "it's your shout, Cabot."
"You buy me a $2 ice cream cone, and think you can get away with anything," Alex rolls her eyes, but she's smiling as she leaves their booth, and moves across to the bar.
She isn't at the bar long - there's only one person serving, but the bar's mostly dead - but when she turns around, armed with a whiskey on the rocks, and a glass of white wine, someone's already taken up residency in the seat she's just left.
Judging from the look on Casey's face, that someone isn't entirely welcome.
"Here she is," Casey says, quickly, as Alex approaches, reaching for her glass, and placing it gently on the table top. The white guy with the salt and pepper hair who is leaning way too closely to her for someone who is supposedly a stranger, glances up at Alex, and his thin lips draw back to reveal teeth, pressed into an unconvincing smile.
"Hi," Alex says, sliding into the side of the booth that Casey's sitting at, "do we know him?"
"We do not," Casey says, each word weighted.
Salt-n-pepper Hair takes this as an opportunity to introduce himself, "Randall," he says, sticking his hand out, and pulling it back when Alex doesn't shake it, "I was just asking your friend here if she'd be interested in joining me for a drink."
"My girlfriend," Alex corrects, easily, "and from the look on her face, she isn't interested."
She feels Casey tense up next to her, ever so slightly, at those words leaving her mouth, but she sinks closer to Alex, hesitantly puts a hand in her lap, which Alex immediately picks up with her own.
"It wasn't an offer limited to just one," Randall says, and his eyes actually light up a little as he drops his gaze to their joint hands.
"We're actually not looking for a new father figure right now, are we darling? But thank you for the offer."
That finally catches him off guard, his eyes bugging out of his head just a little, and his expression quickly dropping to anger, "you know what you're doing is disgusting. You'll go to hell."
"Uh-huh, we'll see you there," Alex says, smiling, waving, trying very hard not to laugh as Randall leaves the booth and wanders over to his own table on the other side of the room.
As soon as he's gone, she moves ever so slightly away from Casey, dropping her hand. It remains in her lap, though, even as Casey lifts her drink with the other one, taking a long gulp.
"Thanks," she mutters, reluctantly drawing her hand back into her own lap.
"Anytime, though I know you, Casey Novak, you can handle yourself better than that."
She flashes Alex a small smile, one that doesn't quite reach her eyes, "guess I'm off my game."
"I guess you are."