Hey readers! This is not my chapter! It's my friends :)

After leaving the café, Casey went back to the office and ordered beef chow mein from her favorite Chinese restaurant. Once her paperwork was finished, she took her lunch and the rest of her things home. As she unlocked the front door of her apartment, she sighed. "Thanks Olivia. That date was wonderful," she murmured to herself.

As she hung her car keys on their hook and laid her briefcase on the table, she fought back tears. She felt stupid for thinking the lunch date would actually happen this time. Sighing again, Casey curled up on the couch under a blanket as she silently ate her chow mein with a pair of special chopsticks she had bought a few years back. By the time she retrieved the fortune cookie from the carton, the tears were falling freely. Olivia had been acting really strange towards her. She had been cold and snippy, but Casey couldn't figure out what she had done wrong.

She opened her fortune cookie, unfolded the tiny piece of paper, and read her fortune. "Things are not what they seem," the paper said. Casey shook her head and turned to face the back of the couch, then cried herself to sleep.

A knock on the door startled her awake. "It's open babe," she called, wondering if Olivia had even heard her. Maybe everything would be better now.

Olivia opened the door and, without even saying hello, went straight to the refrigerator. She glared inside, then slammed the refrigerator doors shut. "You're out of beer," she snapped.

"I don't drink beer," Casey responded, raising an eyebrow in confusion. Clearly Olivia was pissed about something; she only drank beer when she was really angry. "What's wrong with you?"

"Nothing."

Casey sighed and narrowed her eyes as she watched Olivia once again open the refrigerator. "Really? You're looking for nonexistent beer; you know I don't have any. You're giving me short, cold answers. You're slamming doors, storming around, and quite frankly, you're being a bitch. Don't lie to me and tell me nothing is wrong."

Olivia paused, holding a knife poised just above the mayonnaise jar. "It's work," she replied before spreading mayonnaise on four slices of bread.

"I figured that much. I'm going to assume it has something to do with why you left the café earlier. Why won't you talk to me?"

"Because it doesn't concern you! You wouldn't-" Olivia stopped herself, but Casey knew what she was going to say.

She looked at Olivia and slowly sat back down on the couch. "I wouldn't understand? Why do you say that Olivia? How can you say that? Is it because I'm not a cop?" She once more turned to face the back of the couch. "Or is it because I'm not Elliot?"

"It's just not something you're used to. I-"

Casey cut her off. "Not used to?" she repeated. "I've been working with the Special Victims Unit since 2003. In case you've forgotten, I have seen and been through a lot. I may not be out there in the field making collars and chasing perpetrators, but I still know what goes on in the cases. You are being elusive and cryptic."

"Hopefully I'll be better once the case is over," Olivia responded as she finished making her sandwiches and bit into one of them.

"It isn't just this case Olivia. You've been this way for a couple of weeks and I have no idea why, because you won't talk to me." Olivia sighed loudly. She set her sandwich on the plate and leaned against the counter. "Work has been stressful. I think…I think it would be best if we took a break."

"From work?"

Olivia shook her head. "No. From us. I'm sorry." She stood up and gently kissed Casey's cheek, then left, closing the door behind her.

Casey felt the hot tears spill out of her eyes yet again. Within seconds, she was crying harder than she had in a long time, for no reason, yet for every reason. She didn't know what she had done to make Olivia want a break from her, but she knew one thing: she was going to find out.