A/N: I apologize for the liberties I'm taking with the character's personal lives in this one—and for the references to Irish Step Dancing…I took it for 10 years so St. Patrick's Day is synonymous with dancing.

March

Casey was swamped at work. It seemed like as the weather got nicer, the crime rate in New York City increased. She was handling about 9-10 cases a week, double what she was used to. Of course, if she was this busy, she knew that her girlfriend had to be even busier. She hadn't even talked to Olivia in days, and going on a date with her was out of the question. They had become more intimate since Valentine's Day, and Casey loved every minute that they spent together, but she wished that the time they had wasn't so infrequent.

Just then, Casey's phone rang. "Casey Novak's office," she said automatically.

"Hello, counselor," she heard the familiar voice of her girlfriend on the other end say, "are you busy?"

"Hi, sweetie, I'm busier than I've ever been in my whole life." She responded sadly.

"Do you think you can get away for a few hours tonight?"

"Yeah, I think so. I have a night-court arraignment at 9, so it won't be until after that. Is that too late?"

"For you? Never." Olivia said, "Pick you up outside the court house at like 9:30?"

"Sounds perfect."

"Great. Then we can go celebrate!"

"Celebrate what, Olivia?" Casey asked, confused.

"St. Patrick's Day! Duh!"

Casey laughed. "Is that today? I can't believe I forgot!"

"…and you call yourself Irish! Ok, I have to run. We'll talk later. Love you!"

"Love you too, 'bye!" She said quickly before she heard the click on the other end.

Her upcoming date with Olivia made her happier than she had been all day, and because she was running on some kind of emotional high, the rest of the day passed very quickly.

When she arrived at night court, she was prepared to fight tooth and nail to get the suspect remanded without bail. She argued as hard as she could, and in the end the judge agreed with her. There was no way he was getting out of jail before trail. Satisfied, Casey turned around to see Olivia sitting in the back of the courtroom. She waved excitedly, realizing that she looked like a 5-year-old only after the fact. She laughed at her own stupidity, grabbed her stuff, and headed over to Olivia.

"I thought you were just going to pick me up outside!" She said.

"I know, but I got off work early and I just love watching you do your job." Olivia whispered into Casey's ear, "I see you're dressed for the occasion. Did you go home and change?" she asked, noting the abundance of green in Casey's outfit.

"Um, no," Casey said sheepishly, "I just wear green a lot."

"I know."

They walked to a local bar down the street, one where cops usually frequented.

"It's so crowded here!" Casey observed.

"Duh! At least half the cops in the city are Irish, Case."

"I know why it's crowded, Olivia, but don't you care what your colleagues will say about you?"

"Casey, I'm a female cop. Most of them just assume that I'm gay already. It's not fair, and if I was straight I'd be pissed as hell, but this time it works in my favor. Are you okay with it?"

"Please, if I cared what people thought of me, do you really think I'd be a lawyer?"

"Good point." Olivia laughed as they walked arm-in-arm into the establishment.

Olivia got them both beers (dyed green for the occasion) and they sat down in a small booth in the corner.

"So, counselor, just how Irish are you?"

"Very. I grew up taking Irish Dancing for 12 years."

"You danced?" Olivia questioned.

"I tried. My sister was much better at it than I was. She always won medals at the competitions—they're called feises—I, unfortunately, pretty much sucked at it."

"I'm sure that's not true, Casey. Did you do it year-round?"

"Yep. Three 2-hour classes a week, plus camps in the summer. That's not counting competition training, the actual competitions, or the dance-outs we always had around this time of year."

"Dance-outs?" Olivia was intrigued.

"Yeah…around St. Patrick's day we were always going to one nursing home or another dancing for old people…or, my favorite—nuns."

"Sounds like fun. Teach me."

Casey almost spit out her dyed-green beer, "What?!"

"Teach me to Irish Dance." She repeated.

"Here? Now?!"

"Yeah, am I speaking Gaelic?"

"I think I need a few more drinks before I do that, sweetie." Casey said quickly and ordered another beer.

A few hours and even more beers later, Olivia asked Casey once again if she would teach her to dance.

"Right here in front of everyone?" Casey barely slurred.

She's adorable when she's drunk. Olivia thought.

"Yeah, Case. Right here. Right now."

Casey looked around. Although the room was spinning slightly, she noticed that there were still a ton of people there. "Fine." She conceded.

She took Olivia's hand and led her to the dancing area of the bar. Luckily, there was some Irish music playing through the speakers. It was bad Irish music, but it would have to do.

"Okay," Casey started, "let me show you first and then I'll teach you."

"Go for it," Olivia said as she gestured towards the vacant dance floor (cops weren't very big on dancing, apparently).

Casey listened for the beat of the music, trying to identify which kind of dance she needed to do. Ok, it's a reel. She decided mentally. You can do this, just try to remember it. She waited for the beginning of eight counts, and began her dance. She was surprised how much she remembered, and once she completed it, she suddenly became very embarrassed. She looked at Olivia.

"That was beautiful, Case." She said, "Now show me."

"Thanks, Liv," Casey said, a little out of breath, "I'm not gonna teach you that one—we'd be here all night! I'll teach you an easy one, ok?"

"What, you doubt my dancing abilities?" Olivia teased.

"Shut up!" Casey shot back, "do you want to do this or not?"

Casey took hold of Olivia's hand and said, "Here, watch my feet."

Casey slowly did a step she remembered from when she was really young—a simple one that practically anyone could do.

Olivia tried to match her movements, but failed miserably. Casey wasn't sure if her girlfriend's footwork was impaired by alcohol or she was just generally a bad dancer, but either was it was funny. Casey started to laugh hysterically.

"Ok, Liv." Casey said, "Don't quit your day job."

"I'm offended, Casey!" Olivia joked.

"Yeah, yeah—just take me home, Detective," was Casey's reply.

"Your home or mine?"

"I'll leave that up to you." Casey said with a wink and a small kiss on Olivia's lips.

With that, Casey grabbed her stuff and bolted out the door, shouting over her shoulder, "Come on, Liiiiv! I wanna go!!"

Olivia looked at her girlfriend's retreating figure and smiled. Wow. She thought. I love her.

A/N: Admittedly, this chapter was out of character and slightly stupid, but I had no idea what else to do for March. Next is April…I might need some ideas for that one. Any feedback is appreciated. My goal is to break 30 reviews throughout the course of this story—and with 12 chapters it shouldn't be that hard, people!!