A/N: I finally appear to be somewhat advancing the plot (as opposed to losing the plot). Apologies for my protracted delays, finding time to write is tricky. I shall hopefully update my other one soon also. Anyhow, onward

Chapter 21: Acceptable Sin

Casey

I never dated much, for obvious reasons, but I still wasn't nervous before my first date with Nick. That's not to say I didn't think about calling it off or making an excuse a dozen times.

I accepted his offer for dinner because it was a distraction, and I couldn't think of a good enough reason to say no.

With hindsight I could think of a few hundred.

If I could go back to before that first date, I'd tell myself "Casey, you're being selfish, and one day, you'll feel incredibly guilty about using him this way, as a way to prove you're over Olivia (which, by the way, you aren't, not even close) and to take your mind off your problems. Trust me, karma will bite you on the ass spectacularly, but that won't stop you, even at your lowest point, coming back to this day and blaming yourself for all that happened."

Of course I can't go back, so I made my mistake, and another, and another until everything went to pieces.

Casey wasn't expecting to enjoy so much as endure her date with Nick, but she was pleasantly surprised.

He was engaging, sincere and overall a perfect gentleman.

Eager to deflect any awkward personal questions, Casey had been an ounce short of interrogating him, but he seemed to take it as interest rather than a tactic and was accordingly open.

She learned that he was divorced; long enough ago that he was ready to date again, but recent enough that he didn't want to talk about it much. More than that, Casey figured his disinclination to discuss the matter indicated he wasn't the one who initiated it, but that wasn't the red flag it might have been in other circumstances. He was a cop, the long hours, the inability to leave the job at the office, it took its toll on even the strongest relationships.

Many of his interests aligned with hers, so conversation was easy and flowing. Maybe he laughed a little too much at her jokes, and maybe he leaned a little too close when sharing something personal, but this was a date, even if her heart and mind were elsewhere so she could not begrudge him that.

When it came time to call it a night Casey declined his offer to walk her right to her door, leaving him with a friendly hug outside the restaurant, and she wasn't close to surprised when her phone buzzed after she'd only been home a moment.

Perhaps it was cop paranoia on his part, or maybe he wanted an excuse to get in touch without seeming desperate, but either way, he enquired as to whether she had made it home okay.

Casey kicked off her heels and crashed on the sofa, toying with the idea of a sarcastic reply; of course she hadn't been kidnapped in the few minutes it had taken her to walk into her apartment block, take the elevator to her floor and walk inside her abode. Instead she relented, playing along with the pretense.

Casey: Yes, thank you. I had a great time tonight

She had barely placed her cell on the table before it vibrated gratingly against the glass surface.

He was eager. But Casey knew that much already.

Nick: Me too, when can I see you again?

Casey tensed. Here was her chance to back out gracefully.

But rejection stings, and for a moment, Casey put the future out of her mind. There was no harm in indulging him, at least for a little while longer. She wasn't hurting anyone.

So she set a second date and after a little time idly channel surfing she headed to bed for an early night.

Nick

I'm a Detective, so it stands to reason I should be a good judge of character. I read people, weigh up their motives, their intentions. It's my job.

So why couldn't I figure out Casey from day one? I could have saved us both a whole world of hurt.

Maybe I didn't want to, or maybe she just sidled up right into my blindspot.

My Dad always said 'women make you crazy' and I always thought it was an excuse.

Maybe it is an excuse and I'm just repeating it to make myself feel better. I wish I'd done things different, but I guess that's just empty words now.

I'd say by the end we worked out even, but I know that's not true.

We hurt each other in different ways, and an outsider might say we matched up blow for blow. This is where intentions are everything. I never meant for it to turn out the way it did, I never imagined it would. But Casey knew, she knew from the start it would wind up with heartbreak. I'm not trying to leave all the blame at her door, but most of it belongs there.

Their second date wound up as a few drinks after a long day, they'd both worked well past the allotted time for their date. This time Nick insisted on walking her home, his hand sliding into hers under the guise of ensuring she made it across a busy intersection safely, but remaining in place until they found themselves outside her apartment building.

"So…" Nick said, "here we are."

"Here we are," Casey said. Nick's fingers were still woven together with hers, and he flicked his eyes from the building door and her a few times before puffing out his cheeks.

"I'm not all that tired," he said, "I think that walk woke me up. Second wind maybe. The cold, it's…"

"Do you want to come up for a drink?" Casey blurted out almost before she'd thought it through. That's what he was awkwardly angling for.

Nick beamed brightly, "sure."

In the elevator Casey had time to rethink her decision, so much so that Nick had to clear his throat loudly twice before she realised she hadn't punched in her floor number. She reached awkwardly past the Detective, offering a nervous smile.

"Hey, don't worry," Nick said, "I'm not gonna put the moves on you. You know, unless you want me to."

"Sorry," Casey said, "it has been forever since I've been on a date, let alone a second date."

"We got that in common," Nick said as he followed her out of the elevator.

When they arrived at her apartment Casey finally had time to think harder on her life choices.

As she uncorked the wine bottle her heart began to beat in her ears, her hands felt cold.

She was doing this.

She really was.

As an abstract idea, she had found it easy to imagine getting a boyfriend, it didn't seem such a stretch. But watching as Nick settled on the sofa, reality hit her hard.

He was here, at her invitation, with an unspoken but very much understood purpose.

She poured two glasses of wine, large glasses. She needed it, she needed her head to swim in a different way; her thoughts to muddle and slip away rather than jumping and shouting fitfully. She felt nothing like anticipation as she joined Nick in the living room; his easy smile did nothing to quell the her nerves.

"This is a nice place," Nick said, because that's what people say, even when it's not true.

Casey kept the conversation going as she drank the first glass and then a second. By now Nick had shuffled closer, his body turned toward her, his arm stretched out behind her on the headrest.

If she didn't think too hard, it wasn't so bad.

He was still talking, and Casey was past listening, she only tracked the flow of the conversation enough to nod at appropriate times.

With the fog settling in, Casey wasn't thinking much of anything when she reached across to set her glass on the table and Nick took that opportunity to lean in and kiss her.

She had expected it to feel awful, but it was worse.

It was nothing. She felt nothing.

Immediately her thoughts turned to that first kiss with Olivia. It was electric, like every nerve ending in her body sparked to life to experience the moment, the sensation.

With Nick, it was empty. She was aware of his fingertips tilting her chin up, the soft pressure of his lips on hers and the slight wetness left behind when he pulled back but it was all academic.

When Nick opened his mouth to speak, Casey, emboldened by the alcohol and the lack of an adverse reaction to the first kiss, placed her hand on the back of his neck and pulled him into another kiss.

Still nothing sparked, but it didn't need to. She didn't have to try too hard, she could just let this happen.

At that stage, it was easier to let it happen than stop it.

After a few minutes of fairly innocent kissing, Casey led him wordlessly to her bedroom, and he made a show of asking if she was sure, they'd both been drinking, telling her he'd be happy to wait even as he continued to unbutton his shirt.

As soon as she nodded her approval he needed no further encouragement. Casey just went with the flow, making all the right sounds, arching her back at the appropriate time but all the while wanting it to be over.

Nick stayed because it would have been rude for her to ask him to leave, but as soon as he fell asleep Casey extricated herself from his arms and climbed into the shower, washing away any trace of him, paying special attention to anywhere his hands or mouth had lingered. It didn't make her feel any cleaner, and though he'd left no marks on her skin, to her it felt as though her sins were tattooed in bold type for all to see.

As her head began to clear, she lingered with her hand on the bedroom door, bracing herself to go inside. She could only look at him for long enough to confirm he was still asleep. Before she could talk herself out of it, she slipped back into bed, teetering on the edge as far from the sleeping detective as the bed would allow.

It would be a long night.

Casey

And just like that I was doing the 'right thing'. I was being good, in a manner of speaking. I was committing a sin, but it fell on the right side of acceptable.

We never got around to a defining relationship talk but we somehow wound up in one anyway.

It struck me that it was serious a few months in when Nick put in for a transfer. I didn't ask him to do it, he did it to preempt any accusations of impropriety.

It was a statement of intent, and an act of commitment. In other circumstances it would have been sweet but I felt my stomach sink when he gave me the news. It was a weight, an obligation, a commitment and I could no longer walk away with no consequences.

That should have been my wake up call, but it wasn't.

He moved over to homicide and everything was out in the open. By then Olivia was on maternity leave so I didn't see her reaction, though she told me later she'd cried when Elliott casually mentioned it, playing it off as her hormones gone awry.

I was only good for a little while before I broke. I guess with Olivia out of sight temptation wasn't constantly tapping me on the shoulder. For a little while I was just coasting along, it was monotonous but I didn't have the writhing snake of guilt twisting in my stomach.

But then someone else tapped me on the shoulder out of the blue and my peace was shattered.