A/N: Okay, it's been aaages! Got carried away writing a couple of other projects, to hopefully address the lack of caseybased fiction on here lately (one which is nearly ready for posting, one of which is too evil for words and might not see the light of day), and holidays and other distractions didn't help! This story is nearly done (promise…). As for the last bit, it may be a bit confusing as it was hinted at during a much earlier chapter, and much has happened since then! However, that's unfortunately the haphazard way my mind tends to work! So, if confused, let me know and explaination shall be given! Though knowing me, you shan't be any more enlightened…god, look at me ramble… on to the story, reviewing would make me very happy, in a shallow kind of way, but happy nonetheless :-)
Oh, and if anyone read my last story "One Night in Georges Office" I apologise for the absolute bizarreness of it. I occasionally indulge my insane side.
Chapter twenty-eight: You're So Fucking Special…
"I'm gonna count backward from ten, then I'm putting a couple of bullet's into your head, and pop! It'll be over. You won't feel a thing," Beck said soothingly. Even if she was an assassin, at least she was a caring one, who ensured her killings took place with minimal discomfort for the mark.
How very fucking gallant of her.
Screw this, she'd already ruined her favourite jeans, and Beck was about to kill her. There was no way, feasibly, that Casey could make the situation any worse. She had nothing to lose. Steeling herself, she got to her feet just as Beck hit seven in her countdown, turning to face her assailant.
"Hey, Novak, get back down," Beck said, taking a step back, surprise registering on her rain sodden face.
Casey shrugged, jutting her chin out, "if you're convinced this whole grudge is so noble and just, you ought to be able to look me in the eyes when you kill me," she said, relieved when Beck seemed to consider her statement, and didn't immediately do just that.
"Do you want your parents to be able to ID you or not?" Beck threatened, touching the nose of the pistol to Casey's chin in a transparent threat.
"It's your choice, but I'm not dying on my knees." Casey stated, feeling a little swell of pride at her own bravery.
"Have it your way," Beck said, forcibly rolling her eyes, but demeanour patently unsettled by the Lawyers pluck, and the fact that Casey seemed to have co-opted control of the situation. Good. If she was going to shoot Casey, no way was she about to make it easy for her. Beck backed up, raising her the pistol to Casey's forehead.
She resisted the urge to shut her eyes and instead focused intensely on the Detective, green eyes boring into Beck's blue.
"You are aware that the police are easily going to make the same connections you did to carry out this vendetta and you'll get caught," Casey said, doing her best to make conversation and stall her execution further.
"I'm sorry, have I accidentally given you the impression I give a flying fuck?" Beck asked, "After you're taken care of, that's it for me, job done. They can fry me for all I care. I ain't running."
"They can't," Casey piped up, desperate to add something else to the conversation.
Beck gave a heavy sigh, "What? Four counts of premeditated murder, one being a probation officer, another an officer of the court? All assasination style shootings with the vic restrained? I think you overestimate the leniency of your office."
Casey shook her head, "Oh, I don't doubt they'll go for the death penalty, they just don't use the electric chair in the State of New York anymore."
Beck looked puzzled, "Oh, jeez, right. Is it lethal injection now? I thought you got a choice."
Casey nodded, "in Washington they still give you the option of hanging, but New York, it's just the needle."
"Thanks, good to know," Beck said, eyes narrowing as she remembered her actual goal. "Anyway, lets get this over with. Any last words?"
Casey shrugged, "uh, look behind you?"
"Clever Novak," Beck said with a wry smile, "if you wanna make that wise ass remark your last words then be my…" before Beck could complete the sentence, Olivia had closed the distance and launched through the air in a fashion similar to the tackle she'd used on Casey a few days earlier. She slammed Dani to the ground, swiftly re-organizing herself so that she was straddling the other Detective, snapping cuffs on. It looked even more impressive in third person. Olivia got to her feet, batting ineffectually at the mud now pasted to her black slacks.
"Mirandize yourself," She muttered to the restrained Dani Beck, who was still too stunned to speak. She approached Casey, withdrawing a penknife from god knows where and cutting her free. Casey had to actively hold herself back from pulling Benson into a desperately thankful bear hug. Instead, she said,
"Wow, you should seriously consider trying out for the precincts football team."
"Funny Counsellor, a little gratitude wouldn't go amiss," Olivia frowned, straightening out her leather jacket, which was also slicked with wet soil.
"Thank you. Again," Casey said genuinely thankful and slightly woozy from the adrenaline flood was now dissipating in her veins.
"You're welcome, again," Olivia said, "I only caught the tail-end of your conversation, but were you arguing your way out of getting shot back there?"
"I nearly did," Casey said, crossing her arms tight over her chest, beginning to shiver, either from the cold or the near death experiences which were getting far too frequent for her liking.
Olivia managed a smile, "wow, I'm actually a little impressed," she wandered away to check on their prisoner, finding her still restrained, "alright, let's get back to the precinct, I'll get someone to book Beck while I take your statement. Oh, and you owe me a new pair of pants," she added, gesturing to the mud splattering her current attire.
"After that? I think I might need a new pair myself," Casey joked as Olivia pulled Beck up to her feet, nudging her in the general direction of the nearby squad car.
Olivia rose an eyebrow, "nice, thanks for that Novak."
"Kidding," Casey said quickly.
*****
THE OFFICE OF ADA CASEY NOVAK
Much to her distain, the second he'd heard that the imminent threat to her life was over, Jack McCoy had called Casey back into the office. Due to the ongoing threat from whomever had murdered Staten Island's answer to her, she was still under police escort and said gargoyle like uniforms followed her closely as she stepped out of the car and made her way into the office.
Not only that, after the close call at the convenience store, Olivia had designated herself Casey's own personal, unshakable bodyguard, even following Casey to the bathroom, though she did wait outside the stall. There were certain lines Casey would not allow the overzealous Detective to cross…
Perhaps it was for the best, she thought as she left the guards outside, dropping her coat off before stationing herself behind her desk. Olivia took a seat on the sofa. Casey shuffled through her internal mail as her voicemail droned in the background. Mostly, it was just updates from other departments, requests from persons who were not aware of her temporary absence, but the final message was from McCoy, requesting her presence is his office as soon as possible.
She slumped down in her chair, knees suddenly weakened. She didn't suppose her boss just wanted to congratulate her on dodging yet another bullet (both proverbial, and literal)
"Do you want me to come with?" Olivia asked,
"I think I can handle it," Casey sighed, getting to her feet and leaving the Detective to her own devices.
THE OFFICE OF DISTRICT ATTORNEY JACK MCCOY
Her boss was thumbing through a document when she entered,
"Ah, Casey, take a seat," He said, sliding the paperwork away and retrieving a binder. What ever discussion he wanted to have with her required a whole binder. This was far from good.
"Not to rush you but I've got a whole bunch of stuff I need to catch up on, with being out of the office for days, it's piled up," Casey tried, hoping to get the meeting over with, with a bare minimum of build-up.
"Casey, sit." He insisted softly, in a manner wholly uncharacteristic. Shit. He couldn't possibly be about to fire her just after she'd been kidnapped and damn near assassinated, could he? She could see no other reason for his docility. She took a seat, staring down at the desk.
"It has come to my attention that I might have been a little hasty to pull you up on your written work without considering the extenuating circumstances," he said. Casey frowned slightly with confusion. She had been stressed by Elliot's disappearance, but McCoy didn't know that. Hopefully.
"I'm sorry, I'm not sure I follow," Casey said.
"Casey, if you had told me that you were dyslexic, then we could have made arrangements to accommodate your needs,"
"I'm sorry, what?" Casey interrupted, the words springing out before she had a chance to remind herself it was her boss she was sitting in front of.
"It's nothing to be embarrassed about," he said gently.
"Who told you?" Casey asked, feeling her face colour. In seven years at the DA's office she had managed to keep it under wraps, and it wasn't something she hadn't disclosed to many people in her previous employment , with the exception of Mary Conway-Clark, who she had clerked for as a newly qualified lawyer. Even then, the former Judge had only found out because her college mentor had let it slip whilst arranging her placement.
"A Detective from your squad, apparently word got out about my ticking you off, which again, I apologise for," McCoy said. Casey knew it had gotten out. Her friend Christina had let her know that someone (likely McCoy's bitchy gossip mongering secretary) had told her that rumours were floating around the office that McCoy had threatened Casey with suspension over her document production. That of course was a massive exaggeration, but in a drama-starved office such as theirs, small events had a way of getting blown out of proportion.
Casey remained silent, cursing herself for asking who told McCoy. She now had no way to deny it. When the duration of her speechlessness crossed the threshold into uncomfortable silence, McCoy cleared his throat deliberately,
"I've arranged a meeting with our Personnel department to see what changes we can make to help you out," McCoy said. He was smiling a smile she had seen all to often. He felt sorry for her. She just felt special, and not the good kind.
"Great, I'll look forward to it," Casey numbly, getting to her feet and nodding adieu to her superior before heading back to her office. Whilst how they had found out her secret was a mystery, she had a damn good idea who had spilled to Jack McCoy.
Casey wouldn't be surprised if her Boss was in Olivia Benson's speed dial.
*****
Olivia was about to greet the returning Lawyer when Casey slammed the door loud enough to knock the pigeons off the window sill of her office. Silently, Casey rounded her desk, settling in her seat, then pointing at the chair opposite her, rather curtly barked,
"Sit."
Olivia didn't appreciate being spoken to like an animal, and so remained on the couch,
"What's up?"
"I'm curious Olivia," Casey said, sardonic, one red-blonde eyebrow raised, "when did you decide you were going to completely screw up my career? Was it after the whole incident with Saul Picard and Elliot, or have you just been slowly escalating it from the beginning?"
"What are you talking about?" Olivia said, getting up and walking to the desk occupied by the intensely pissed attorney, but not sitting, on principal.
"Drop the act. Jack told me it was a Detective from the squad I work with. " Casey said, "how'd you find out? Did you pull my school files? Looking for any past sordid deeds to use against me?"
It was amazing how trying to help could backfire so spectacularly sometimes. Olivia tensed, again contemplating what she ought to disclose.
