A/N: Okay, updating, I fail at it. Often. (or not often enough as the case may be!) I promise sincerely to update more often dammit!(my returning insomnia should help with that endevour!)

Another thing to add to the list of things which I fail at would be writing. This is a bit of a goofy chapter (much like the last…) but I feel the need for a little scene setting, so bear with me.

Anyhoo, please read on, and I would be very much obliged if you could leave your thoughts on the lovely shiny review page to let me know how much I fail, or not. It would make the little hamster in the wheel powering my brain do a little victory dance!

Casey

The first time I realized that I liked women, I was fourteen and it wasn't so much a thunderbolt as it was a steady, rising panic in my gut.

I'm the dead centre middle child in a family of five, two older sisters, and a younger sister and brother, courtesy of the catholic churches stance on contraception.

And courtesy of said religious persuasions stance on homosexuality, lets just say I didn't run out, get my hair cut, pick up KD Lang's back catalogue and buy myself a rainbow bandana.

I swallowed it, all through high school, and I guess my parents thought I was too focused on studying to think about boyfriends. My Dad for one wasn't about to complain about my lack of interest in all things male. I think he was just glad he didn't have to scare off any prospective suitors like he did with my sisters.

College was a different story.

I came out of my shell, and I guess a little out of the proverbial closet. I was away from home, away from the small town I grew up in where everyone knew everyone's business and were only too happy to share.

I met a girl, Julie. She was pretty, in a boyish kind of way, gay and very much out. And in New York, no one batted an eyelid at another lesbian on campus, she was just…free. That was entirely alien to me, and I guess that's what drew me to her.

Eventually, I worked up the nerve to talk to her, and I'd never felt anything like it. That tickling of butterflies in my stomach, lightheadedness, tripping over my words attempting to piece together simple small talk. I got her number, and things progressed from there.

We went on a few dates, and it was amazing, just being with her, talking, holding hands. We even made out a few times, but I always made an excuse before things went any further. I had no idea what I was doing, and the idea of going to bed with her and showing up my total lack of experience terrified me. God, I didn't have the slightest clue how one even went about lesbian sex. I was embarrassingly innocent.

Then one day, we were walking across campus, she had her arm around me, one hand in the back pocket of my jeans as was her custom when we walked straight into my eldest sister, Sarah.

To say I was shitting myself would have been an understatement.

I stepped away from Julie, and ignored the confused look on her face as I introduced her as my roommate. Turned out my sister had come to drop off some books I'd left at my parents last time I'd been home. After Sarah left, Julie was pissed. Ultra pissed.

I tried to make excuses, but her final words to me rung true: "You're ashamed of me."

And she was right, though not half as ashamed as I was of myself. We never spoke after that and I can't say I blame her. I was a coward.

I suppose in a lot of ways I still am.

After that I threw myself into coursework and forgot about the whole thing, Julie moved on with another girl, and I never really saw her around. She graduated before I did, and maybe that was for the best. A year or so later I met a guy called Charlie. He was good company, and I liked him enough that sex wasn't too awkward, though I never felt anything like fireworks for him. He was my best friend, and it just made sense. It was the easy option. When he proposed, I said yes without hesitation, and my Mom was so proud. Even more proud than when I picked up my law degree.

After all that happened with him, after I left him, I had ample excuse to avoid romantic involvement with anyone.

And that is the rather underwhelming romantic history of Casey Novak. But it wasn't like I was cut up about it; I was content to be by myself.

Until Olivia came along.

Honest to God, it started as innocent friendship. After I got the job at the DA's office, making friends in Manhattan hadn't been easy. I've never been gregarious, and with the hours Branch had me working I didn't have much time for eating and sleeping, never mind socializing.

We would talk for hours, after work, and on her frequent trips to my office. And not just about work either. Within a few months, I had told Olivia things I hadn't told people I'd consider my closest friends. I always thought she would get tired of listening to me ramble on about my childhood, school years, or anything else that came into my head. But she never did and it was so good to finally have someone to talk to, someone who understood all the chaos that came with my job, and the emotional toll that it took.

I knew I felt something more when I started to miss her.

On the nights when we didn't get time for our post-work chats, or when she was away for days working herself half to death on a case, or on the rare occasions she took vacation time with Elliot I missed her terribly. I'd stay up at night thinking about her, wondering where she was, what she was doing.

Remembering it now, it feels sort of pathetic. I was a love-struck teenager all over again. And when I finally saw her again, or even heard her voice on the telephone, the rush that went through me was…incredible. I was finding out how it really felt to actually like someone, seriously, and it was exhilarating and heart-breaking at the same time. I fall for someone, someone I care about enough that I'd considering saying fuck what the world and my family say about my sexuality and she's straight. And married for that matter.

I swear to God I never planned to do anything about it. Never.

But you know what they say about the best laid plans of mice and men.

*****

Olivia Benson gave a cursory knock to the door before waltzing straight into the office of ADA Novak. After five months with the new attorney, they had moved beyond such courtesies as waiting for an invitation to come in. Things moved fast in the world of Special Victims Unit, and so did the Detectives.

"Casey, we need a warrant for…" Olivia's words trailed off as she caught the shell-shocked look on the redheads face, "what's up?"

Casey gave a tense smile and shook her head, "nothing, what can I do for you Detective?"

"Uh, we need a warrant for the McCabe residence," Olivia said, joining Casey on the other side of her desk by the ADA's large, heavily populated bookcase.

"Fin called this morning, it's already in the works…" Casey suddenly become distracted by her office door, and before Olivia could ask what she was looking at, Casey whispered "…shit! Get down!" in an urgent tone and grabbed the Detective by her jacket, yanking her to the floor behind her desk.

Adrenaline shocked through her veins and Olivia was instantly in cop mode: gun drawn swiftly from the holster clipped to her belt, cautiously peering over the desk, her dark eyes roving for the would be assailant, her free hand placed firmly on Casey's shoulder to ensure she stayed out of the line of fire.

"God, Liv, put the gun away!" Casey said in a whisper shout, "it's just Liz!"

Olivia's mouth hung open as she returned her firearm to its station, "we're hiding down here from your boss?!

Casey bit her lower lip and directed her eyes to the interestingly patterned carpet of her office, "Donnelly's looking for me, she wants to chew me out over that plea bargain I made without her consent. I told my secretary to tell her I was out of the office."

Olivia couldn't help a little chuckle, "Case, didn't you think it might be wise to actually be out of the office?"

"I only came back to pick up one of my reference books, then you showed up," Casey shrugged, now blushing fiercely at her frankly rather humorous predicament.

"You do realize you might actually have to talk to your boss at some point during the rest of your employment here, right?" Olivia asked teasingly, managing to raise a smile from the other woman.

"I know," she sighed, still giving an occasional cautious peep over the desk, "I've just had a hell of a day, and I wanted to save the ass-kicking for tomorrow. Gives me something to look forward to in the morning,"

Olivia took in the weary look on Casey's face. It was impossible to resist those pleading green eyes, especially from such close range. Besides, Olivia had been the one urging Casey to plead that case out. The least she could do was offer Novak a temporary reprieve.

"Alright, you wait, I'll distract her. I'll page you when the coast is clear. Meet me out front in ten."

*****

Casey observed silently as Olivia exited her office, leaving the door slightly ajar; a tactical move no doubt. Despite feeling more than a little silly and juvenile crouching behind her own desk, she also felt touched that Olivia had agreed to rescue her. It was almost…chivalrous. A few moments later, she saw Olivia walk back past the door, Elizabeth Donnelly at her side.

Son of a bitch, Casey thought. She'd actually managed to distract her. Right on cue, Casey's pager buzzed and she didn't waste any time following her instructions.

Ten minutes later

"Mission accomplished, and here we are at the extraction point," Olivia announced gleefully as she slipped out the front exit, her dazzling smile on full beam.

"Thanks Liv, but I'm still going to be extracting Liz's foot from my ass tomorrow when she catches up with me," Casey said.

"Maybe not," Olivia said, tucking her hands into the pockets of her trademark brown leather jacket. It was a good look for the other woman. Casey had experimented with a black leather jacket of her own for a few weeks, but had switched back to her blue trench-coat after a few people had asked what she rode, and she had to admit ownership of a pushbike, complete with a little basket in the front to house her briefcase and the occasional grocery bag.

"Why, did you surreptitiously slip her tranquillisers while you were in there?" Casey joked.

"Nope," Olivia said, nonchalantly, "I told her I pressured you into it. She was pissed, but she should go easier on you tomorrow."

Casey raised her eyebrows, surprised that anyone would risk the wrath of EADA Donnelly voluntarily, "you didn't have to do that," she said softly.

"I wanted to, you went to the mat on this one for us Casey,"

"Thank you…I feel like I need to repay you somehow," Casey said, following Olivia as she began to walk away.

"Coffee sounds good," Olivia said, linking arms with the attorney when she caught up.

"You name the place," Casey said, attempting to ignore the neurons firing up a thunderstorm in her brain over the physical contact, and the prospect of an evening with the object of her affection.

It was a harmless crush, Casey spent all day steadily focused on the harsh realities of her job, it couldn't hurt to occasionally indulge in a little fantasy. And besides, what Benson didn't know wouldn't hurt her.