A/N: not entirely sure if anyone's still reading this but thank you for bearing with me if you are!
Part of Casey thinks she must be having a brain aneurism or something.
Casey Novak doesn't do relationships, but she also doesn't do sleeping around. She's sure most people in her office, most of her squad, think she has no sexuality whatsoever. And maybe that's how she's conditioned herself to be, since Charlie. It's been a little over four years, but the heart break still feels fresh. She's avoided falling for anybody as a protective barrier for her own heart, and she knows that, so what is she doing here, with Alex, pretending like they're a normal couple doing normal couple things?
Casey had been half asleep when she'd realised Alex was crying the night before, and her instinct had been to pull her close, to hold her until she calmed down, so she'd gone with it, not really considering the consequences. She'd cooked them breakfast in the morning because it seemed like the right thing to do. But watching Alex eat, all she'd wanted to do was kiss her. And then she had. And it hadn't ended there. Again.
Sitting in Alex's bathroom, Casey drops her head into her hands. She knows she should be more concerned about the potential threat to Alex's life, but for some reason that part feels easier to deal with. That part makes sense to her. It's everything else that's so complicated.
"Case?" Alex calls, knocking on the door softly, drawing Casey out of her thoughts, "you alright?"
How long has she been in here? Quickly getting to her feet and wiping at her eyes, Casey tries to recompose herself, turning the faucet on and splashing water onto her face.
"Yeah, be out in a sec," she calls back, trying to neaten out her hair, which seems pointless when she's wearing nothing but a t-shirt, but still.
When she finally emerges from the bathroom, Alex is sitting on the bed, legs stretched out in front of her, reading a newspaper. Her hair hangs loose over one shoulder, and she's wearing her silk bathrobe, only covering her down to her thighs. Her toenails are painted red. Casey thinks that if she'd ever actually imagined what Alex Cabot would look like lounging in her own home, this is the exact image that would have sprung to mind.
As Casey sits down on the bed, Alex folds the newspaper closed.
"Today's paper?" Casey asks, sitting cross legged.
"Yesterdays," Alex says, dumping it onto the end table, "I was trying to distract myself with it, but it didn't work."
"Reading your horoscope?" Casey teases, evoking a small smile from Alex as she nudges her shoulder.
"Yeah, it said I should be wary of leggy redheads with wandering hands… any idea what that could mean?"
Casey laughs, running her fingers lightly down Alex's leg, "no idea," she leans over to her and kisses the side of her face, her hand moving further up, skimming the edge of Alex's robe, "I wouldn't describe myself as 'leggy' though."
Alex lifts her head ever so slightly, and Casey welcomes the invitation, kissing the spot below her ear, and then along her jawline, her hand on Alex's thigh. She tries to ignore the voice in the back of her head that's still worrying about what all of this means, and focus on Alex, on the way her breath catches when Casey's mouth finds her pulse-point, sucking lightly.
"My hair isn't even really red at the moment," Casey whispers, right by her ear.
"Shut up," Alex chuckles, low and throaty. She rolls them over, pinning Casey to the bed, and kisses her, slowly, taking her time. For a second, Casey allows herself to imagine what this would be like if they were just a normal couple, if this was their every day. Warmth spreads through her, and she smiles against Alex's lips.
Then, Alex's phone starts to ring.
The noise takes them both by surprise, and Alex presses one last gentle kiss to her lips before reluctantly pulling away, walking over to the phone. Casey sits up, can't help but smile as she watches Alex in all her disheveled beauty, swinging her hair back over to one side and lifting the receiver to her ear. She glances back at Casey, and she's smiling too, and Casey has to look away. It's like looking into the sun.
"Hello?" Alex says, her voice just slightly different, slightly more professional. Casey wonders how many times she's gone to say 'Cabot' into her phone, and had to stop herself. "I'm sorry, I can't quite hear you. Who is this?"
Frowning, Alex holds the phone to her ear a while longer, repeating 'hello', before eventually giving up and hanging up. She moves slowly back to the bed and sits down heavily.
"Wrong number?"
Alex shrugs, "not sure. Maybe somebody accidentally dialled - I could hear talking but it was too far away."
She sounds nonchalant, but the look of worry on her face gives her away. She frowns, crossing her legs and leaning back into the pillows.
"I know I've never been in your situation," Casey starts, slowly, "but I was attacked. At work. Someone posing as a flower delivery man. And every phone call… every delivery made to my office… it's hard to start trusting people again."
That's something of an understatement, but Casey doesn't want to think about Charlie any more, about how hard it is for her to so much as be touched by somebody without the thought crossing her mind. She trusts Alex, though, implicitly.
Alex stares at her, eyes full of compassion, where Casey had half expected her to shrug it off, be annoyed at the comparison.
"I guess I won't send you flowers, then," Alex says, softly, and there's something in that smile that makes Casey break inside, the thought of Alex Cabot sending her flowers… she doesn't even like flowers, never even liked them before the attack, but if Alex sent them…
She has to look away.
"There's so much we don't know about each other," Alex muses, "you're the only person in the whole of this town who knows who I really am… but even you don't know me."
Casey shrugs, "I know enough. I googled you."
This makes Alex laugh, a full, rich sound, as she throws her head back a little, looking at Casey in wonder, "you… googled… me?"
Feeling her cheeks go pink, Casey hangs her head in embarrassment, "that sounded a lot less creepy in my head," she gazes up at Alex and smiles, "you left pretty big shoes to fill, I wanted to be prepared."
"Oh that was all it was?" Alex teases, smiling brightly at her.
"Hey, you can never over-research."
"Yeah? Well there's some things google doesn't know."
Intrigued, Casey nibbles on her bottom lip, "really? Like what?"
They spend most of the rest of the afternoon talking, migrating down to the living room eventually, and opening a bottle of wine as the evening draws in. They share leftover take out from Alex's fridge. It's nice. The more Casey finds out about Alex, the more she realises that even though they come from very different backgrounds, Alex is much more like her than she'd always assumed. She shares stories from her childhood, too, talking about her siblings and her parents with a fondness that she thinks might be a little bit lost on only-child Alex, who admits she has never been awfully close to her father. Her mother had died whilst Alex was in Wisconsin, and she hadn't been able to go to the funeral, which seems to be something Alex still feels guilty about.
Casey doesn't bring up Charlie, even when Alex talks at length about the various men and women she's dated. They talk, instead, about colleagues from the DA's office, judges that they've both pissed off, and the detectives they both consider family.
There's something in the way Alex talks about Olivia, the distant misty look she gets, that confirms what Casey's wondered for a long time, though she doesn't push her into talking about it. Alex gets quiet, then, and Casey changes the subject.
Eventually, conversation winds down. Casey yawns, stretching out on the couch, her body clicking from being curled up in the same position for hours. Alex watches her with amusement over the rim of her wine glass.
"Well, nothing happened," she says, draining the last of her drink, and putting the glass down on the coffee table.
It takes Casey a beat to realise what she means, "maybe it was a stupid prank after all. Are you back at the hotel tomorrow?"
"Yeah," Alex nods, lifting her arms above her head and rolling her shoulders, "only a short shift though. We could do dinner? I'll pay - as an apology."
Scoffing, Casey shakes her head, tugging the throw that's covering both of their laps up a little higher, "we're splitting the bill. That sounds nice, though."
They sit there in awkward silence for a moment, Casey not sure if that's her cue to leave, or not. She's reluctant to go. She tries to put it down to still being concerned for Alex's safety, but she knows the truth. She doesn't want to spend the night alone in her hotel, not whilst the option of curling up next to Alex's warm, soft body is still on the cards. She doesn't want to outstay her welcome, though. She feels like she's probably already pushed Alex into sharing more than she maybe wanted to, without including her bed in that.
"I should call a cab," she eventually says, pushing the throw off her lap.
"No!" Alex says, almost immediately, then looks flushed at her outburst, "I mean, there's no point in you going home now. Stay the night. I'll walk you back tomorrow morning on my way to work."
The lack of hesitation in Alex's voice makes something stir in the pit of Casey's stomach, and she finds herself smiling softly, agreeing. Alex pulls the blanket back over her, and leans into her, tilting Casey's head towards her until their lips meet in a gentle kiss.
It's different, somehow. She knows something has changed between them.