A/N: Sorry for falling off the face of the earth yet again, but hopefully this slightly longer (and hopefully more satisfying?) chapter will make up for it. Who doesn't love Christmas in July, right? I think there's maybe one more chapter left in this story. Thank you for bearing with me, and as always for all your lovely reviews.

In the weeks leading up to Christmas, Alex becomes incredibly stressed. Not just because her workload is heavy to accommodate for the out of court public holidays, but also because Christmas is... well, stressful. Or perhaps she's making it unnecessarily so. Almost definitely.

The main stress isn't about going home to family for the holidays (she doesn't have any, really), or wrapping up cases before the new year. It isn't even really about buying gifts... she's an excellent gift-buyer and not just because of the size of her bank account. It's just... well, it's Casey. Of course it is.

Alex sighs, setting down the case files she's been looking over (and not reading properly) and once again glancing at her phone. She shouldn't call. She has no reason to disturb Casey, not even a flimsy excuse for conversation. She could walk down the hall, just in case... but that would be perturbing too. She and Casey are in this weird place where they're talking to each other without actually saying anything, and barely seeing each other, the majority of their shared work being attended to via email. It's... uncomfortable. The strain between them feels obvious.

She misses her.

Aside from being in witness protection, Alex has very little experience of missing anything or anyone, so the realisation that that's what this is hits her like a punch to the gut. She keeps trying to shrug the feeling off. She keeps telling herself that she's the wrong side of 25 to be having such childish feelings, but, there's no denying the way her heart flips when she catches a glimpse of red hair disappearing around a corner a moment too late, or the way her breath gets caught in her throat when she hears Casey's voice, always directed at somebody else, not her. It's honestly kind of pathetic. She's always prided herself on not being one of those women... and yet here she is.

Not that she's in love with Casey. It isn't like that. It's just... she misses her. She misses the way they used to bounce off of each other perfectly, their idle banter and gentle prodding at one another. She misses how great of a team they made in the court room, how they were almost always on the same wavelength without even having to communicate it.

And yeah, she misses that sweet spot bellow Casey's ear, and the feel of her milky, smooth skin against Alex's own, and the taste of her, the sound of her... it might have only been one night, but Alex can't quite seem to let go of it.

She drags her eyes away from the phone and hesitantly slides open the top drawer of her desk instead, poking around until she uncovers a plain navy box. Swallowing, she absent-mindedly drags her finger over it, tracing the gold embossed lettering. She could open it, but it won't have changed from the last twenty times she's looked at it. Sighing, she pushes the drawer closed again.

It's a bad idea. It was a bad idea when she bought it, and she'd been wholly aware of that, yet somehow unable to leave it behind once she'd seen it. It's too much for a gift for a friend, let alone for somebody who is barely talking to you. But it's perfect. Alex had seen it and thought only of Casey. She'd only slightly hesitated before buying it, but as soon as she was out of the store she'd realised how stupid it was.

If you can't hold a conversation with somebody, you definitely shouldn't be buying them a $500 Christmas gift.

She wishes she had somebody to talk to. A week ago, she and Olivia had gone for coffee, stopped off in the park for a long while to talk. It had been nice, spending some quality time with one of the only people who she entrusted with her insecurities, but it hadn't been enough. The subject she really needed to vent about was right there on the tip of her tongue, but she knew she couldn't mention it. Once upon a time, she and Liv might have been in a position to discuss their personal lives in that amount of detail but... not any more. Especially not when it involved one of their colleagues, somebody who Olivia would have to see regularly, and pretend not to know anything about. That wouldn't be fair on Liv, and it wouldn't be fair on Casey either.

There's only so long she can go on like this, though.

Sighing, Alex lays her hand on the phone, flexes her fingers as if to pick up the receiver, and then thinks better of it. What's she supposed to say? Oh hey, Casey, I know it's been months and we're supposed to be over this, but I can't stop thinking about you and I needed to hear your voice? Remember that time you came to my apartment and kissed me and we agreed never to speak of it again? Yeah, I can't stop thinking about it and I'd like to do that again, please.

No, calling her is out of the question.

Underneath her hand, the phone starts to ring, and Alex almost jumps out of her seat in surprise, fumbling uncharacteristically for the receiver.

"Hello?"

She knows it's unreasonable to expect it to be Casey, but she can't help but feel disappointed when it isn't.

Suddenly, it's Christmas Eve and the box is still in Alex's desk drawer. She has no Christmas plans, having turned down dinner with an uncle she hasn't seen in over a year, and made no effort to make arrangements with anybody else. Christmas at the Cabots' used to be a grand affair, despite Alex being an only child, but since losing her parents, she can't stomach the idea of spending it with distant relatives, most of which she hasn't seen since her return from the dead.

She suspects Christmas will consist of this: takeout for one, several glasses of red wine, and maybe It's A Wonderful Life on the television. If she can stand it.

She gets the usual gifts from the department: a hamper of luxury chocolate and fruit, with bottles of expensive wine and a cheese board. A poinsettia sits in her office, courtesy of her assistant, Alex being too polite not to keep it. She doesn't expect anything else.

So, the rectangle of shiny green paper that's waiting for her on her desk when she returns from a late meeting, only heading back to the office to collect her things and head home, catches her off guard. It doesn't have a tag, only a matching ribbon, and Alex almost doesn't open it. Almost. Something in her chest goes tight and she knows it's irrational but... could it be? No. It almost definitely isn't, but what if it is?

Trying to steel herself for disappointment, Alex carefully slides open the wrapping, taking her time, not ripping the paper. On top of the item - she sees, now, that it's a book - is a folded over slip of paper, which she opens out.

Her breath catches in her throat as she immediately recognises the handwriting.

Found this and was reminded of you. Happy holidays.

Miss you.

C x

She folds the note neatly back in half and moves it to one side. When Alex finally realises what the gift is, she can't help but laugh, even though she feels like she might cry, all the pent up emotion of the last few weeks hitting her head-on, much to her embarrassment. She opens the front cover, flips through illustrated pages, and closes it again, running her thumb over the image on the cover of the book, and finally making a decision.

Casey's assistant isn't at her desk. The door is closed, and it's impossible to tell whether the lights are on, whether anyone is inside. Most of the building is deserted, everybody already on their way home for the holidays, so it's a slim chance that the room is occupied. A slim chance, which Alex knows she has to take.

She knocks. There's no immediate response, and her heart sinks. Should she knock again or just give in, accept that Casey isn't in? Alex doesn't know what she was expecting anyway. The holidays don't usually turn her into a sentimental optimist; she's never believed in Christmas miracles or any of that garbage. But something about opening that gift...

"Hey, you," a voice says, soft and familiar behind her.

Alex spins around so fast she thinks she might have given herself whiplash, but it's worth it for the throaty chuckle that erupts from Casey. She's dressed casually, a green sweater and well-fitting jeans replacing her office attire, her hair loose around her shoulders. She's breathtaking. Alex feels that same knot in her stomach tighten as she drinks her in, this woman who has never been more than a few miles away from her - a few yards away in the same building - but who she hasn't seen - not really seen - in weeks.

"Casey," she says, hoarsely, before clearing her throat. "I... wasn't sure if you'd left already. I got your gift."

Blushing, Casey looks away from her, down at her shoes. She's wearing sneakers instead of heels. It makes her a few inches shorter than Alex. "It's lame. I just... the jersey you got me..."

"I love it," Alex says, smiling, "that Casey... he's pretty handsome. Love the moustache."

Casey laughs melodically, and their eyes meet again, and for a second Alex forgets how to breathe. She's a grown woman. She shouldn't be behaving like this. Anybody who knows her would laugh in disbelief if they thought she was capable of such childish behaviour, Alexandra Cabot who is always in control, the Ice Queen, emotionless. As if she's ever been emotionless. She just doesn't wear her heart on her sleeve... or at least she didn't used to.

"I'm sorry I didn't get you anything," Alex lies, thinking of the box in her drawer, far too extravagant a gift to give in return.

Casey shrugs her off, "it's okay... it wasn't a gift so much as an excuse to offer you an olive branch."

"You could have done that in person."

Sinking her teeth into her bottom lip, Casey nods, looking uncomfortable. It vaguely registers in Alex's head that this is the longest they've been alone together since the night Casey drunkenly kissed her in her apartment, and she doesn't know what to do with that information.

"I wasn't sure you'd want me to," she admits, "the way we left things wasn't exactly… comfortable."

It might have been easier if they'd left things on a blazing row, but they hadn't. Casey had said she was better off not spending time around Alex… well, Alex had tried to honour that, by withdrawing from her. It had never occurred to her that it might come across as if she wanted nothing to do with Casey either.

"Of course I wanted you to," she tells her, gently, hesitantly reaching to touch her. She strokes her shoulder, and she expects Casey to flinch, to pull back, but she doesn't. Her palm rests on Casey's elbow. Alex rubs her thumb over the soft knit of her sweater, wishing it was her skin.

"I haven't stopped thinking about you," Casey's voice wavers, her eyes darting away from Alex's again.

"I haven't, either."

She lifts her chin, just slightly, making eye contact, teeth worrying her bottom lip again. Alex can't help but glance at her mouth, before meeting her eyes. She wants to kiss her.

It's a bad idea.

"I wish this wasn't so hard," Casey murmurs, "I'm not usually like this. I usually know what I want, and I know how to get it. What steps I have to take. I'm not usually so afraid."

"I know," Alex tells her. She lets go of her elbow, lifts her hand up into Casey's hair, the other brushing the redhead's waist before falling to Alex's side. Casey instinctively leans her face into the touch. "What do you want?"

Casey hums, all unresolved tension and buzzing electricity. She's teetering over the cliff's edge, Alex can see that in her eyes, but she doesn't quite know which way she's going to go. Being so close to her, after so long… Alex thinks she might explode from the want. She doesn't know if she'll be able to just walk away. If that's what Casey wants, she'll do it, but she's not convinced it won't destroy her.

"What do you want?" she repeats, softer, stroking Casey's face, then letting go.

Casey looks up at her, eyes wide and dark and wet, and Alex can feel every single breath in her body waiting for a response. Their faces are so close now. She doesn't remember moving so close, is only relieved that nobody else is around.

"You," Casey whispers, then, again, more sure of herself, "I want you."