Author: Regency

Title: Detective Strangelove (or How Liv Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the [Strawberry] Blonde)

Fandom: Law & Order: SVU

Pairing: Casey/Liv, implied Casey/other

Rating: PG-13 for innuendo

Word count: 11,203

Spoilers: Anytime Liv has ever worn a top with ruffles. Takes places when Liz Donnelly was still Bureau Chief.

Summary: It begins with an admission of guilt; then, Egyptian cotton sheets, breakfast, and curry. It ends with breakfast, too, because that’s how they work.

AN: It started in a rather meta!tastic fashion, but became a serious story by about the second segment. Keep that in mind while you read. Also, takes place predominantly in Liv’s POV until the end where the shift is obvious.

Disclaimer: I don’t own any characters recognizable as being from Law & Order: Special Victims Unit. They are the property of their respective producers, writers, and studios, not me.  No copyright infringement was intended and no money was made in the writing or distribution of this story. It was good, clean fun.

~!~

                Casey was looking at Liv like she’d murdered her dog and blamed the crazy next door neighbor.

                “What,” Liv asked, finally sick of being looked at that way.

                “I’m sorry about those shirts,” Casey grimaced, staring at Liv’s ruffled collar and cap sleeves.

                Liv looked down at herself, suddenly a little self-conscious.  “Why? You gave ‘em to me.”

                Casey just kept grimacing.  “I know. That’s why I’m sorry.”

                Liv straightened up, defensive of her wardrobe being called into question.  “If you didn’t like them, why’d you give them to me?”

                “Honestly, I just wanted to get them out of my apartment.  They were my ex’s and you two seemed about the same size, so…,” Casey trailed off with a shrug.

                Liv had to bite her lip to keep from saying the worst of what she was thinking. She had to bite her tongue to keep from saying the best of it.  “So you gave me your ex’s clothes—for my birthday?” There was a backwards sort of intimacy in that gesture and Liv wasn’t so sure how she felt about it.

                “If it’s any consolation, my ex hated them, too.”

                Liv folded her hands and rested them under her chin.  “I can’t decide if I’d be happier if your ex was a woman or not.”

                Casey scanned her pensively, keen eyes taking in the ruffles and the fit, the fabric and the neckline.  “All things considered, you carry it off well.”

                “All things considered, you gave me your ex-girlfriend’s blouses for a birthday present.  Does she even know you gave them away?” Liv had enough experience with spurned former lovers not to want to get involved.  She and Casey weren’t lovers, so the last place she wanted to be was caught in the middle.

                Her ADA shrugged.  “I doubt she cares. She hasn’t called me in months.  Like I said, she hated them more than you do. At least you wear them.  I gave them to her and they sat in the closet for four months before she up and left; then, she left them behind when she packed up her stuff.”

                “She probably forgot they were hers,” Liv muttered.

                At that Casey could only nod in concession.  “Yeah, probably.”  She swished her Cuba Libre a few times before she looked at Liv again, this time with a tentative smile. “They really do look great on you.”

                Liv could only stand to glare at her so much—but she glared as much as she could.  “I look like a confused Liberace.”

                Casey grinned.  “I think Liberace confused just about everyone, so you’re right on track.”

                “Haha,” she returned dryly.  Only to herself, Liv would admit that it did sting a bit that Casey only thought of her as someone good enough to pawn an old lover’s stuff on and not someone worth shopping for.  She wasn’t sensitive about it, but she’d actually believed Casey had bought these shirts for her, so she’d worn them and faced the raised eyebrows of pretty much the entire precinct.  In the future, she was just accepting cash; this gift business was a little too rich for Liv’s blood.

                “Listen,” Casey started to fill the silence, “I really did want to get you something nice for your birthday—and I did—but I chickened out at the last second, threw the shirts in a bag, and viola.  You seemed like you liked them so I let it be.”  She gave Liv another brief inspection.  “I was wrong. I de-fabulized Butchy McFabulous.  I’m pretty sure there’s a fine for that.”

                “There will be if you don’t show me what you meant to get me instead,” Liv said and wasn’t kidding. She’d been wearing these ridiculous tops for four months without realizing that they were meant for someone else and she wanted a little compensation for time served.  Admittedly, she mostly wanted her dignity back: it was hard to rough up a perp when he was busy cracking up about your baroque collar. Sad thing was she’d started to like the damned things. She thought the damage to her fashion sense might be permanent.

                She gave Casey’s leg a nudge with her booted foot.  “Seriously, I want to know what you got me that was so shameful you had to give me your girlfriend’s leftovers instead.”

                Casey sucked the lime from her drink and shrugged.  She wouldn’t meet Liv’s eyes anymore.

                “Come on, Case, nothing’s that bad.”  She reached over and plucked the lime from Casey’s lips and gave it a suck herself.  That stopped her ADA cold.  Smiling, she pulled the withered citrus husk from her mouth and dropped it onto a napkin.  “Still waiting.”

                Her strawberry blonde slouched back in her chair and sulked in stubborn silence, leaving Liv to her disbelief.

                “You would really rather sit and not talk to me than tell me what you got me for my birthday? Really?”

                Casey stretched and folded her arms behind her head.  “Can I just say that it’s something you would have liked and have you be satisfied with that?”

                Liv mimicked her posture and shook her head.  “Nope.”

                “Then, I’ll say it’s something you would have liked and I’ll be satisfied with that.”

                The detective chuckled and hummed, “If you think I’m gonna let it go that easily, you don’t know me very well.”

                Casey sighed. “See, that’s what I’m worried about. I do know you.”

                “Never should have confessed,” Liv teased.

                “I’m beginning to see that my brother was right: honesty is not the best policy,” Casey declared forlornly.

                Liv shrugged.  “So, when do I get to see my real gift?”  She really wasn’t finished pressing the issue.

                “So, when do I get to see you naked?” Casey came right back with a deviant gleam in her eye.

                They answered each other at the same time, in very different ways.

                “Never,” said Casey.

                “Whenever,” said Liv.  She grinned and thanked God for Casey’s fair skin.  That flush would be a long time in fading and she planned to enjoy every minute of it.

                “Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” Casey warned.

                “Don’t promise gifts you won’t share,” Liv retorted.

                Casey initiated a staring match and Liv beat her at her own game. Bring it on, she thought.

                “You said you liked cool sheets,” Casey said, apparently seized by a moment of honesty.

                “What?” Liv asked, confused.

                “You said you liked sleeping on sheets that never got hot. You know, cool sheets.”

                Liv vaguely remembered them having a conversation covering remedies to insomnia once. The temperature of sheets had definitely come up in passing, but hardly as more than an odd personal admission. 

“You remember that?” She couldn’t help but to gape, she barely remembered that and she was the one who’d said it.

                “I remember about seventy-five percent of everything you’ve ever said to me, especially if it was about you.  Since you don’t talk about yourself much, it’s not nearly as much as it sounds like.”  Casey laced her fingers together on top of the small club table and met Liv head-on like she was ready for her day in court.

                Liv had no intention of persecuting her for recalling something she liked. It was sweet—in a Casey Novak kind of way.  “So, you bought me sheets?” she guessed.

                Casey nodded. “I did. Egyptian cotton, 300-thread count.”

                Liv’s eyes widened.  They did not sound cheap. They did, however, sound heavenly. “And?”

                “And, when it came time to give them to you, I realized how weird me giving you sheets would look.  That’s not normally something colleagues give each other.”

                “That’s something someone gives to a girlfriend,” Liv completed the thought for her.

                “Right,” her ADA confirmed. “And since we weren’t—aren’t—dating, I thought it best if I went with something safer like—“

                Liv raised an eyebrow.  “Like your ex-girlfriend’s clothes. Yeah, I see how you could have come to that conclusion,” she finished wryly.

                “You’re never gonna let me live this down, are you?”

                “Not until I get my sheets back, no.”

                It was Casey’s turn to look smug now.  She crossed her arms over her chest and smirked. “Then, I guess I’ll just have to put up with the put-downs.”

                Liv narrowed her eyes suspiciously.  “Why?”

                “Because your sheets are quite happy at home on my bed.” She took another sip of her drink.  “And you were right about the temperature.  Now, I sleep like a baby.”

                Liv reached out and snagged Casey’s drink.  “Good, then you won’t be needing this.”  She took a sip before nodding appreciatively. “Not bad.”

                “That just goes to show that I have good taste.”

                Liv gestured towards herself in the polka-dotted blouse that housed her shift-ready physique.  “In gifts?”

                Casey growled, “Everybody has problem areas.”

                “Yeah,” Liv scoffed, “I’m wearing yours.”

                “Oh, please. That’s not even the worst of them. That’s one of the nice ones.”

                “Really,” Liv challenged.  “Are you sure she didn’t leave you because of these blouses and not in spite of them? They’re pretty bad.”

                “Ah,” Casey moved to object. “But you’re wearing it and you’ve worn them—a lot. You’re out of excuses. Regardless of where they came from, you wore them and you liked them and you defended them.  Olivia Benson, you like frills—or, at least, ruffles. What would your little precinct fan club say about that?” Her ADA looked quite satisfied with her deduction and a satisfied Casey was always a pain for Liv to deal with.

                “They’d say it’s all the redhead’s fault.”

“Strawberry blonde,” Casey corrected, but blanched all the same.

 Liv chuckled, now satisfied herself. “Yeah, I thought you’d have that reaction.”

“That’s just cruel and unusual. You can’t sic them on me. They’ll tear me apart.” She grabbed Liv’s arm and pleaded.

“Well,” Liv started, pretending to consider mercy. “You could make it up to me.”

“How?” Her wide-eyed and hopeful look was just too appealing.

“Sheets, give ‘em to me.”

“You’re still on that,” Casey asked, incredulous.

“Yup. Like I said before, ‘Still waiting.’” She tapped her nails on top of the table, impatiently.

Casey frowned and looked all ready to sulk again, until… “Okay. I’ll show you the sheets.”

“You’ll show them to me—even though they’re mine by giftright? Yeah, no, you’re on your own. Good luck with the rabid Butchfans.” Liv got up and prepared to leave.

“First of all, neither giftright nor Butchfans is a word.  Secondly, you can’t leave me like this. I know my terms are fair, Detective.”

Liv placed her hands palm-down next to Casey’s.  “And I know I have the right to refuse your plea bargain. Better luck next time, Counselor.” She left her drinking buddy with a sympathetic click of the tongue.

“Unfortunately, next time there won’t be breakfast attached to the invitation.”

Liv stopped short and turned around.  “Come again.”

Casey glanced at Liv over her shoulder and, rising, said, “You wish.”

Liv was stunned at Casey’s audacity. “Oh, really, you think so?” Maybe she was a little more stunned at her own.

Before her ADA could give an appropriately saucy answer, Liv’s cell began to ring on her hip. She sighed. “It never ends, does it,” she found herself saying—and remembering, and wishing. You really are too good for all this, Liv reflected.

“Not really,” Casey answered back, sounding regretful.

“I’ll see you in the morning,” Liv asked, this time truly leaving.

“With bells on,” she promised and Liv believed her.

~!~

Liv didn’t see her in the morning.  Casey had court, she remembered. One of their cases, it was expected to take a while.

She didn’t hear from her in the afternoon.  Turned out she hadn’t been in court at all and Judge Petrovsky was pissed. Failing to appear in court with no notice was grounds to be held in contempt and if there was anything Lena Petrovsky held Casey Novak in, it was contempt. Now, it would actually be on paper.

In spite of herself, Liv worried.  She called Casey’s office a few times because she didn’t have time to stop by. The day was busy, the criminals were busier.  She could have used three warrants, but she had to get them from somebody else. Wherever Casey was, it wasn’t at work.

“Hey, Elliot,” she called to her partner across her desk, “any idea why Novak didn’t show up in court today?”

He shook his head and, flipping through a case file, said, “No idea. She’s been out of touch all day. Didn’t you hear? Seligman is raising hell. A 2 p.m. no show, I’m expecting him to issue a bench warrant any minute now.”

“That’s what I thought,” Liv said, mostly to herself.  “It’s not like her, you know, not to come to work and not to call in. Especially if she has court dates scheduled.”

Elliot was idly tapping some keys.  “You wanna swing by her place if we have some time?”

Liv shook her head. “Nah, I’m sure everything’s all right. If I don’t hear from her by the end of the day, I’ll stop by on my way home.”

“All right,” he said and went back to typing in earnest.  She could hear him thinking, Police reports don’t update themselves. 

She groaned next, thinking to herself, No, they don’t and got back to work, all the while wondering what had become of her ADA.

Liv had the misfortune of having to wonder all day. Casey never came in, Casey never called. The criminals didn’t stop dropping victims long enough for her to hit Casey’s home phone more than twice and her cell once. No answer on all counts.

Around three in the afternoon, she considered sending a couple of uniforms over. Just to check, she assured herself, even though she wasn’t really sure at all.  It took an almost physical effort to stifle the urge. Understandably, her partner noticed.

“Relax,” he said and she tried. It wasn’t really any wonder that she didn’t have an astounding social life outside of work—she was terrible at relaxing.

It was six in the evening when they closed the book, early for them.  They couldn’t quite believe the day was over, but they knocked on wood every conspicuous step toward the door. She said goodbye to Elliot with a wave and was gone before he could inquire about what she’d do tonight.  Chances were good that he already knew; they’d been partners long enough.

The drive was a bitch. She wasn’t used to being in rush hour traffic anymore. Generally, rush hour came and went without her while she burned the midnight oil on a case. Today, however, she was in the thick of it; today, she didn’t really want to be.

                By the time she pulled up outside of Casey’s apartment, she’d spent forty-five minutes in bumper-to-bumper traffic and she thought that somebody had better be bleeding for her trouble. It wasn’t that she thought Casey owed her an explanation, it was that Casey had promised she’d be there and the idea that she suddenly wasn’t was simply too poignant for Liv to stand. So, here she was.

                Looking up from the street below, she could see that the lights were off.  She pulled out her phone and dialed Casey’s number inside. She was hoping she’d answer and come down to let her in. The phone rang five times and went to voicemail again.  So much for that, she thought and climbed the stoop to wait for someone to open the door.

                It took her maybe twenty seconds to recall that getting into places people didn’t want her in was her day job.  She scanned the list for a familiar title and buzzed the super. Hindley Earnshaw was a quiet bastard to say the least, but he was a bastard.

                “Why don’t you buzz her yourself?” he asked snidely. Evidently, she was interrupting his dinner as she could hear him chewing over the speaker.

                She said, her temper barely restrained, “I would if she were answering.”

  “Maybe she doesn’t want to talk to you. It happens.”

Liv wiled away the seconds tapping her service weapon and mentally calculating the number of bullets it would take to put the lock out of its misery.  “Mr. Earnshaw, if it turns out that something’s happened to Assistant District Attorney Novak and you’ve stood between me and her getting the help she needs, your ass will be on the line, because I will put it there. Do you understand me?”

He didn’t speak but she assumed she was understood when the building’s front door unlocked with a buzz.  She slipped inside and, too impatient to wait for the elevator, took the stairs to Casey’s floor.

Once she reached the right door, she stepped out into a dimly lit hallway lined with more doors.  Everything appeared normal at first glance and when she reached her ADA’s door.  She knocked once.  Nothing. She knocked a second time.  Still, nothing.  She tried the knob; the door didn’t give an inch.  Liv thought that had to be a good sign, she hoped it was a good sign.

“Casey, you home?” she called out to her wayward colleague.  As before, she didn’t get a response.  “Honey, it’s Olivia. If you can hear me, please answer me.” Liv pressed her ear to the door and didn’t hear a sound.  She growled in frustration. She had two options, she could break down the door or she could go to the super and have him let her in. Neither was particularly appealing and the second would take longer than Casey had if she really was hurt.

Therefore, she settled for option C: picking the lock.  She owed conspiracy theorist a favor for reminding her how that worked. Two minutes and a click later, she was standing in the entryway to Casey’s Novak’s humble abode. All seemed normal from where she stood.

She closed the door behind her and began to work her way through the apartment, her hand poised preemptively over her sidearm. Casey’s heels lay abandoned in the middle of the hall, she learned painfully with a “God damn it, Casey!” She ducked into the kitchen and found a solitary mug of coffee sitting on the counter. Pressing the back of her hand against the ceramic, it was cold to the touch. She noticed dirty dishes in the sink and Casey’s purse on the kitchen table. As far as she could tell everything was accounted for. Even in the living room, her coat and briefcase sat undisturbed on the couch. Casey had been here, no question, but where had she gone, Liv asked herself. In seeking an answer, she turned her attention toward the last place left to check.

Casey Novak’s bedroom seemed like her inner sanctum. The door was firmly shut unlike those leading to the other rooms of her apartment.  As she approached it, Liv could hear music playing on the stereo. This must have been where Casey’d gone, she thought.  She twisted the knob, gave the door a push, and stepped inside.

She was right.

Spread out facedown in bed was her ADA, sleeping like a baby to the sounds of Shania Twain turned up high.  Liv wouldn’t have been able to hear her phone either at this volume. Or her alarm, which it turned out wasn’t even on. Casey had slept the day away because she left her music up too loud and her alarm off. It was almost endearing. Almost.

After switching off the stereo, she put a hand on Casey’s shoulder, one of the only parts visible from under her comforter, and gave her a gentle shake. Casey mumbled to herself, groaned, and stayed asleep.  “Casey,” Liv called in a singsong voice. “Wake up, Casey.”

“No,” she muttered, still pretty much asleep.

“Ms. Novak, if you don’t wake up this instant I will hold you in contempt,” Liv said in her best imitation of Lena Petrovsky.

“Whatever you say, your honor.” Casey seemed to smirk, even when half-unconscious.

“Seriously, Case, I’m pretty sure you’re getting arrested tomorrow.”  Liv was only partly joking.  Petrovsky had been truly pissed when Casey didn’t make her court appearance.  The defense, on the other hand, had been jumping for joy.

“I’m…sorry,” Liv heard at the same moment as one bloodshot eye peeked open.

“Tell it to the judge,” she whispered, suddenly unbelievably sympathetic for how bad Casey must have been feeling to sleep this long.

“The judge?” Casey shook her head as if to clear cobwebs. “What jud—” Liv winced as Casey’s frown transformed to an expression of abject horror.  “The judge: Petrovsky. Court: today. Oh, God.” She dropped her head back onto the pillow. “I have court.”  She lifted it back up to look at Liv—who shifted aside so that she could see the clock—again.  Her face blanched like it had the night before, only Liv didn’t find it nearly funny this time. “I had court, right?”

“Right,” Liv offered with a grimace.

She rubbed a hand over her eyes. “Okay, well, tomorrow’s gonna suck. No sense in rushing to the worst day of my professional life.” With a shuddering breath, Casey rolled over and pulled the covers—the suspiciously soft covers—over her head.

Liv tugged halfheartedly at the spruce green comforter.  “Is that really the best thing to do right now?” She imagined that running to the judge’s house and begging for mercy with roses and chocolate would be unsuccessful.

“Screw the best thing,” came Casey’s muffled response,” it’s the only thing to do right now.”  She sighed deeply, but it sounded a lot like a sneeze from where Liv was sitting.

“Bless you.”

“I’m gonna need it. I’m so fired.” She had curled up in a ball with her head in her hands. Liv laid a comforting hand on what was probably her back.

Liv might have been more comforting if she actually disagreed. “It’s okay, Casey. Everything’s okay.” Things were certainly better than they’d been when Liv thought Casey was hurt. At least she was safe and whole; at least there was that.

“It’s really not, Liv. Liz Donnelly can’t stand me. She’ll take any opportunity to show me the door.  What’s that sound? Oh, it’s opportunity, knocking.”

“I can’t change your mind about sticking your head in the sand, then?”

A brief pause and, then, another sigh. “No.”

“Then, I guess I’ll let you get some sleep. You have a long day ahead of you tomorrow.” Liv rubbed the spot on the comforter where she thought Casey’s head might have been.  “Night, Casey.  And set your alarm this time.” Something that might have been a yawn sounded and the lump formerly known as Casey Novak shifted under the covers.  Liv got up to leave and had just about made it to the door when she heard that voice again.

“Hey, Detective, how about a test drive?” Liv’s eyebrows shot up in spite of her and she turned around to see her sleepy strawberry blonde holding back the covers. It was less of an offer really, more of a wry smile with a “How about it?” attached.

“Casey—”

She stretched lazily and repositioned herself just enough to give the detective a look.  “You said you wanted to see the sheets in action; here’s your shot. Besides, you never get days this early. Come on, take advantage,” she yawned.  “Get a good night’s sleep and tomorrow I’ll make breakfast.  It’ll be good, promise.”  She seemed sincere, if totally out of it, and Liv was at a loss to refuse. She really was adorable this exhausted.

“Okay.”

Casey smiled crookedly.  “Good.” Then, she nestled down between the sheets and immediately nodded off.

Liv mentally chided herself for falling prey to her ADA’s weary persuasion. There was no way a well-rested Casey Novak would have offered to share her bed with Liv for the night. Regardless, someone had and Liv had accepted.

Sighing, she undressed down to her undershirt and skivvies and, after placing her badge and service weapon within reach on the nightstand, crawled into bed next to her slumbering colleague—friend, maybe more.

She was surprised to find Casey had been dead-on with the Egyptian cotton.  Even having had someone curled up in them all night, they were still cool to the touch.  So was Casey, who’d left Liv just enough of the covers not to get goose bumps.

Liv kept her distance, but as she fell asleep, her fingers found the grooves between Casey’s ribs and settled in.  Casey settled closer.

It was nice. Just nice.

~!~

                Too soon Liv felt the bed shift beside her. She moaned unhappily, she’d just been having the most wonderful dream.  She wasn’t used to sleeping well anymore, so she clung to good dreams when they came. This one was no different; she had it by the tips of her nails. Just as it was about to slip away, a light touch brushed her hair. It was soothing and tender, as was the voice that accompanied it.

                “Go back to sleep, sweetheart,” she heard. “It’s not time to get up yet.” It could have been a part of her dream, but she cherished it just the same. And once the sheets were tucked gently around her again, she grabbed hold of her dream and took it for another ride. It was a short one.

                About the time that Liv found her dream reaching its natural conclusion, the light touch returned—and that voice.

 “Liv.” Fingers ghosted against the side of her face.  She inhaled deeply and leaned into them. “Honey, wake up. Breakfast’s ready.” 

She moaned irritably.  She wasn’t ready to get up but she wasn’t about to turn down a meal either. With a great heave of effort, she lifted her eyelids and met the sweet, warm gaze of her ADA staring down at her.

“Ready to eat,” she asked, and while Liv might had different menu in mind, she was definitely hungry for something.  “Come on, everything’s out.” Casey hopped up and beat a hasty retreat back to the kitchen, beckoning Liv to follow, which she was only too do glad to do.

When Liv arrived at the kitchen, Casey was standing over the table with a somewhat eager expression on her face.  Forcing herself to ignore the sight of Casey Novak in running shorts, the detective had to admit the spread was impressive. There were eggs, bacon, sausage, fruit, toast, orange juice and what had to be coffee. Liv’s stomach immediately gave the woman an A for effort; Liv gave her an A for the effort and for the smile that bloomed as soon as her approval became clear.

“Do you usually eat this much?” Liv asked as she took a seat on one side of the table.

“Well, no,” Casey responded. “Since I’m usually only cooking for me, I make about a third of this. Honestly, most of my food goes bad in the fridge before I can get to it. Not much time for cooking, you know.”  At seeing Liv’s hesitation, she encouraged her, “Help yourself. I can’t finish it on my own.”

“I thought you’d never ask.” Liv proceeded to load her plate with everything on offer while Casey munched on bacon and watched. She normally would have felt self-conscious about having an audience while she ate; but, it was just so good and it had been months, maybe years, since she’d had a home-cooked breakfast and she’d be damned if she took it for granted.

“Good,” Casey asked, stirring her cup of pitch black coffee.

“Great,” Liv said, taking a sip of her own. She wasn’t nearly done eating despite the growing tightness in her stomach. Saying “no más” was just not her strong suit.

Evidently, having had her fill of watching Liv eat, Casey stood and put her plate in the sink. Her plate, too, had gone from full to bare in record time. “I’m gonna get a head start on these dishes. You’re welcome to use the shower if you want.”

“Yeah,” Liv asked, spoon halted mid-way between mouth and bowl.

“Mmhmm,” Casey nodded, pouring dishwashing liquid into the water and testing the temperature. “I already laid out some towels for you in the bathroom. It’s in the bedroom, to your left.”

Liv nodded appreciatively.  “Thanks.”

“No problem. It’s the least I can do since you came all this way to let me know that I might have slept my job away last night. Believe me, I can’t thank you enough.”

Liv sent her hostess what she hoped was a consoling smile. “I’m sure everything will get straightened out. Sometimes, you just need a day to catch up.”

Casey took another sip of her coffee, still on hand.  “I know that, but Judge Petrovsky will say, ‘That’s what weekends are for, Counselor’ and then, I’ll want to hit her with a law volume, which might land me in contempt of court.”

Liv snorted, “Yeah, again.”

“Haha,” Casey intoned.

“Basically.” Liv finally pulled herself away from the scrumptious meal that had hoarded her attention.  She knew it had to be getting late and Casey’s offer of a shower was hard to resist. “I’m gonna get cleaned up. You need the shower?”

“Nah, I showered before you got up. I’ll knock when it gets close to seven.”

“Thanks.” With a last lingering glance, Liv disappeared into the bathroom with last night’s clothes. She’d considered asking Casey if she could borrow a shirt, but a second look at her ADA’s assets had reminded her why that was not to be. Casey was nothing if not statuesque, something Liv adored and envied all at once. Therefore, she’d have to wait until another day to slip into Casey’s clothes. This morning, it was not to be.

In Casey’s small square bathroom, she found a large green bath towel and smaller washcloth waiting on the mouth of the sink. She gave herself a look in the accompanying mirror and was surprised how refreshed she looked. Guess a night with Casey Novak does wonders, she thought with a small smile.

She’d be lying if she said she wasn’t tempted to pursue more with her ADA.  Casey amazing; she was brilliant, beautiful, and caring. She’d be in complete denial if she said part of her wasn’t already in love with the strawberry blonde, but the rest of her demurred.  Every day they faced the very real chance that they wouldn’t see each other again. Their life was dangerous.

Even Casey, whose profession should have kept her safely sequestered in high places, had come out on the unlucky end of a perp’s wrath. In that moment, Liv had experienced a harsher version of the pain she felt when Alex was initially gunned down. It had been anguish and rage at the dying of the light. She would have destroyed anyone at that moment, anyone to get revenge for what had been taken away. And when she felt Casey’s pulse fluttering underneath her fingers, she could have died and never known happiness greater than that. Casey was more than Liv could stand to lose on good day; on a day like that one had been, she was everything.

Unwilling to think on how impossible the situation with Casey was, she stripped down quick and stepped into the shower. A blast of hot water cleared her head, then, the cold soothed the burning of her tender skin. After a few minutes she popped the top of a bottle of body wash Casey had sitting in the soap dish.  It smelt…like Casey, fruits and herbs but without that hint of natural scent that made everything about Casey so alluring. Still, it was close enough to trigger fantasies she didn’t have the time to entertain. So she hurried through her shower and tried not to imagine how good it would feel if her woman with the copper hair was in here with her.

She was just reaching to shut off the shower when she heard a knock at the door. “Liv, it’s ten to seven.”

“Coming,” she shouted back over the still running water.

Liv’s jerked up at what she thought she heard. She had to be imagining it. No way had she heard Casey mutter, “Tease” as she walked away.  It was entirely unlikely, but she could have sworn.  She shook herself again and told herself to forget it. It didn’t matter, there were just too many things against them.

Wrapping the fluffy green towel around herself, she stepped out of the shower and dried off before re-dressing.  She looked all right, a little more like the Olivia she used to be without all the frills attached. Noting the remnants of breakfast littering her teeth, she peeked inside Casey’s medicine cabinet to see if maybe she had some mouthwash she could use.

Right on schedule: “There’s a new toothbrush in medicine cabinet. Help yourself,” Casey yelled from wherever she was in the apartment.

Liv raised an eyebrow.  She was really beginning to think her ADA had eyes everywhere, a thought that was far more erotic to her lust-addled brain than it should have been.  More headshaking and tooth brushing later, Olivia Benson was as ready to take on the world as she’d ever been. 

She walked out of the bathroom to find the apartment a neat portrait of what she’d found the night prior.  The bed of nurturing sheets had been set to rights with the requisite decorative pillows to boot. Casey was wide awake without a hair or thread out of place, attired in her best power suit, showing so much leg Liv believed it had to be crime somewhere.

I’m in way over my head here, the detective thought, offering her valiant hostess a tentative smile. The smile she got in return confirmed her diagnosis: way more than she could handle.

“So, work.”

Casey nodded. “At least until I get my pink slip.”

“Think positive.”

“Sure. I’m positive I’ll get my pink slip.” She flashed an oversized grin. “Better?”

“Smartass.”

“That’s why I get paid the big bucks, to out smartass the bad guys.”

“Fair enough.”

Casey popped her collar like a pro. “I knew you’d see things my way.”

“Never a chance I wouldn’t.” She was rewarded with a wink.

“Good to know,” the strawberry blonde declared with a clap. “Now to call a cab and hit the road.”

Liv rolled her eyes. “Casey, please. You let me spend the night, you made me breakfast, and you let me borrow your shower. The least I can do is drive you to work.”

Casey thought about it for a moment and shrugged. “Okay.”

Liv found her keys next to where her boots had been on the floor.  “Okay.”

And no she didn’t trace Casey’s legs with her eyes as she walked out the front door and down the hall. It just happened that her ADA’s longer strides kept her that far away and her eyes naturally gravitated to that height.

In addition to being terrible at relaxing, Liv was terrible at lying to herself. She was out of good excuses for her reaction to Casey Novak.  All she had left were sappy ones.

~!~

                Once she’d dropped Casey off at the office, the drive wasn’t nearly as pleasant as it had been with the two of them. The order of the ride had been constant competition for control of the radio and a spirited debate about the cost-benefit of Egyptian cotton versus the traditional brand. They never actually resolved the issue but for Olivia’s money, Egyptian carried the day.

Thanks in large part to the woman on her mind, Liv came into work feeling and apparently looking remarkably well-rested.  She hung up her coat and dropped into her chair to check her email.  At some point, unbeknownst to her, she’d begun to whistle.

                “Looks like somebody had a good night last night,” Munch stage-whispered to Fin from near the coffee maker.

                “Sure does,” Fin replied, tugging at his collar with a raised chin.  Liv looked down at herself and realized that her lack of new clothing hadn’t gone unnoticed.

                “I guess that means that Casey’s all right,” Elliot presumed with an expression that was a bit too knowing for Liv’s taste.

                All the same, she nodded. “Yep. Turns out exhaustion got the best of her and she slept right through the day. She didn’t even wake up until I let myself in.  She was out like a light.”

“She better today?”

Liv paused to think about it.  Casey probably hadn’t looked so healthy since the first time they’d met.  “Yeah, I think last night was exactly what she needed.”

“Sounds like she wasn’t the only one,” Munch asserted with what might have been a twinkle if she could see past his shades. She ignored him, because he had the enviable task of being right.

She wasn’t ready to face that.

~!~

                Among the many things she wasn’t ready for, she counted tomorrow high on the list. It had been years since she felt this kind bone-deep weariness.  She could barely lift her arms to shed her clothes, getting up from the couch once she’d fallen onto it was out of the question.  The bed wasn’t worth moving to reach and she fell asleep with one of her boots on.

                Liv was still there when the next morning rolled around and the dawn approached with a polite but insistent knock.  Floating near consciousness, she considered ignoring her visitor to make the most of those last precious minutes before her alarm sounded and her day began again. Too many perverts and too few hours in the day ensured that she’d be forever sleep-deprived. Her good mood was more important than practicing good manners. She drifted back to sleep.

                “Liv, it’s Casey. You up yet,” questioned the dusky tones she would always associate with her favorite girl, the only girl she couldn’t easily ignore. “Liv?”

                The detective cracked open one drowsy eye; then, the other; afterwards, both. Her view of the world was a bit fuzzy and a little skewed, but there it was.

                “Liv, answer me or I call Elliot and have SWAT here in fifteen.” And there she was.  Casey still had a flare for the dramatic when her temper got the best of her. Must be the hair, Liv mused, moving sluggishly to rise from her slumbering position. Her bones gave a creak and she grimaced. She was getting too old for this. Too uncoordinated, too: she cracked her shin on the coffee table and banged her hip on the bookshelf in her entryway.

                By the time she got to the door and yanked it open, Casey already had the phone to her ear and Liv’s mood was a little grimmer.  “Overreaction much, Counselor?”

                “Slow reaction, Detective. What took you so long?” Casey came in after Liv stepped aside to grant her entry, flipping her phone shut with a snap. She seemed wide awake and Liv almost loved her a little less knowing that the other day wasn’t a one-off. Her ADA was a morning person and that was in some way unforgivable.  Something entirely forgivable, however, was the aroma emanating from Casey’s heretofore unnoted hand.  It was coffee and it smelled just liked Olivia’s blend.

                As if hearing her thoughts, Casey offered up the cardboard-lined cup and Liv was only too glad to snap it up like a winning lottery ticket.  She cradled it close and inhaled the delectable vapors it gave off.  Like a humidifier to a cold, her fog began to dissipate.  She started to drift back to her bedroom to crawl in bed and enjoy the caffeinated beverage as it deserved within the cozy, if utilitarian, confines of her blankets.

                “Oh, no you don’t,” said her ADA, bursting her bubble and her happy new mood. She was re-directed with a stern but gentle hand to the couch she’d spent the night on, to the same spot she’d spent the night. “Have a seat. I’m not done with you yet.”

                “What else could you possibly do,” she asked, nursing her coffee semi-contentedly.

                “You’d be amazed,” remarked her suited savior mysteriously. Then, like a magician, Casey fished a number of plastic containers out of her deceptively undersized briefcase. Even more alluring smells arose from them and Liv had pretty much determined that she was going to find a way to marry this woman someday. If there was bacon Liv was going to forego making an honest woman out of her and ravage her on the coffee table.

 “Plates,” Casey inquired.

Liv tilted her head toward the kitchen. “Shelf over the stove.”

Casey was already up and away. “Got ‘em.”  She came back with a couple of rarely used heavy-ceramic dinner plates and laid out the first meal of the day. Liv noted Fruit, eggs, toast, and, yes, bacon.  As before, Liv tore through it like a teenager on the football team; as before, Casey sipped her coffee and kept her eye on the bacon.  She managed to snag the last piece and Liv cursed.  She hadn’t summoned up the courage to ravage the leggy litigator, but at least she had gotten nourishment for her trouble.

                “I’m a growing detective; you cannot keep depriving me of pork.”

                “I can,” Casey reasoned and took another bite of the sole surviving slice. “I will.”

                Liv rolled her eyes, taking one last bite of her perfectly buttered toast.  She wasn’t used to being treated to breakfast this often in the space of one week. If she wasn’t careful, she might get attached to the idea.  “Just for that, you have to let me drive you to work this morning.”

                Peering out the window, to where rain had inexplicably begun to fall, Casey said, “I was hoping you’d say that.”

                Liv stood up and stared down at her ADA.  “I sorta got played just now, didn’t I?”

                “You bet,” Casey said, sitting back contentedly in Liv’s old armchair, “but at least you got breakfast out of it.”

                Liv nodded a bit. “There’s that.”

                Once Liv had showered and changed, they were out the door pretty quick.  Their progress, however, was stunted by the inclement weather and the inability of most of the people who owned cars in New York to actually drive them responsibly. More than once, Casey had to talk Liv out of getting out and issuing a couple of driving citations.  More than that, Liv had to talk Casey out of pursuing arrest warrants for every idiot with his fist on his horn and his finger out his window.

                All Casey could say was, “It gets old, Liv, and fast.”

                Eventually, however, they made it to the steps of the courthouse and Casey was free to go. Before she left, she handed Liv another plastic container from her oversized shoulder bag.

                “I thought you’d like this.  A friend of mine, whose family is from Pakistan, introduced me to the good stuff a few years ago and I’ve been hooked ever since. It’s delicious.”

                Liv took a cursory sniff and was rewarded with the spicy signature scent of curry and long-grained rice. “It smells delicious. Thanks.”

                “You’re welcome,” Casey said with smile not befitting the weather she was about to step into. “Oh, and thanks for the ride.”

                “No problem. It was the least I could do.”

                Her ADA seemed to chuckle to herself before getting out the car with a “Drive carefully.”

                Liv’s “Always” was lost in the transition, but she didn’t mind.  She got to watch Casey jog up the sculpted cement steps in an outfit clearly meant for such things. It wasn’t that she’d never noticed before, she’d just never had a real opportunity to watch.

                “Very nice, Counselor,” she said to herself as she pulled back into the dreary morning traffic.  Surprisingly, her mood was brighter than expected the next time someone cut her off.

~!~

                By the time lunchtime had come to meet her, a little bit of Casey’s influence was the only thing that could get her mood back on track.  She didn’t want to think about her latest victim or the perp she’d been forced to shoot because he didn’t know when to surrender and put up his hands. This many years in, it still remained unbearable to do and to think about afterwards. Her gun was burning in her holster and that was no way to function.

                It was a relief to finally reach into the fridge to retrieve the plastic Tupperware container of food Casey had gone out of her way to procure for her. It brightened her day just a bit to know that when she wasn’t around, the strawberry blonde had been thinking of her.  She tried not to make too much of it, but the heart inside her had other ideas.  When she popped the dish in to the microwave, she unconsciously began to whistle again.

                Once it was done, she pulled it out and took it back to her desk so that she could work and eat concurrently.

                “That,” her partner intoned, “smells terrific.”  Knowing it was a lost cause, she nudged the bowl in his direction and let him get his piece. She’d never have her peace any other way.

                “If you’re sharing, share this way,” Fin hinted. She obliged.  By the time her lunch had made the rounds, she could only hope Casey could get her hands on more—she was feeling sorely shortchanged.

“So, partner, where’d you pick this up? Kathy’d love it if I brought some home.”  El picked his teeth with a toothpick from his center drawer and sat back to chat.

She said, “You’d have to ask Casey. She gave it to me this morning.”

El paused his chewing for a moment to send a conspicuous glance her way.  He got an irritated glower in return.  “I didn’t say anything,” he defended.

                “You gave me a look.”

                “It’s illegal to give looks now,” Munch said, coming to Elliot’s defense.  “What else is this country coming to?” Elliot shrugged, playing along.

                Liv put down what remained of her lunch and sat back, lacing her hands together over her stomach.  “Don’t give me that. You’re covering for him and you,” she pointed to her partner, “are covering for yourself. If you have something to say, say it.”

                “I’m not—this isn’t even my thing.” She kept looking at him, and waiting, and smacking Munch’s hand every time he came to take another chunk of beef out of her curry.  “It just seems to me that you and Casey are awful close nowadays.”

                “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She didn’t and even if she did know, Elliot was not the one and this was not the place she wanted to talk about it.

                Elliot laughed. “Yeah, I thought you’d say something like that. That’s why I didn’t want to bring it up.”

                “Fine,” she conceded, going back to her lunch to find the Tupperware dish about half as full as it was before.  Completely unsurprised, she turned to Munch and Fin to see them eating from a totally different plate with food that looked suspiciously like what she used to be eating.  “You two so owe me lunch.”

                Mid-chew, Munch agreed, nodding to his partner, “Seriously, man, show some self-control.”

                Fin ignored him. “Don’t even start with me.”

                “We’re not dating, you know,” Liv said out of the blue and mostly for her own benefit.

                Elliot shrugged. “If you say so.” He went back to updating the case file for a newly-reopened case they were working. It didn’t help Liv any that he was smirking, just slightly.

                “Seriously,” she contended, “There’s nothing going on there.”

                “Yeah, seriously, Elliot, leave the woman alone. She can hardly work for all your badgering,” Munch added unhelpfully.

                “Thanks,” Liv tossed back, sarcastically.

                “Anytime, Detective.  Anytime.”

                “I just think,” her partner started, not taking his eyes from his computer screen, “that the detective doth protest too much—you know?” Liv didn’t speak. “For something that apparently doesn’t exist, you’re expending a lot of effort to prove that it doesn’t exist, and I don’t see why.”

~!~

                Olivia sat outside the ADA’s office at the close of day—well, at the close the day for normal people.  For folks like her and Casey, this was when they were getting inspired, and fatigue was irrelevant.  Her day wasn’t technically over, but she’d called it anyway; the perps could eat her dust and wait. She, in turn, would wait for Casey.

                When she’d called a couple of hours ago, Casey had been laboring under her workload with but there’d been light at the end of the tunnel.  She was here to see if she’d gotten any closer. Liv wasn’t in the mood to go home without her.

                The detective scaled the floors until she came to her ADA’s open door. She leaned around to see the copper-haired attorney scribbling busily at yet another indiscernible brief.  She knocked and announced her presence by way of “If that’s not the next great American novel, put it down and back away.”

                Casey did put down her pen; however, she made no move to retreat, instead settling for tapping her nails on the desk’s edge and waiting. Liv took her silence as an invitation and dropped into a nearby chair.

                “If you were anybody else, I’d show you the door.”

                “Thank God I’m not anybody else,” Liv replied confidently.

                Casey gave a small smile. “I find myself thinking that more and more with you.” She sounded a little uncertain and Liv was comforted to realize she wasn’t the only one.

                “So, when are you thinking about getting out of here? It’s getting late.” She checked her watch for emphasis and for her information—it was nearly midnight already.

                “In a few minutes actually, just trying to make up for that day I lost. It seems like work grows exponentially by the minute around here.”  She started pulled out drawers and rummaging around in search of only Casey knew what.

                “I’m here for the duration. Say when and I’m ready to roll.” The detective still had mixed feelings about Casey being alone in the office this late. There’d been no incidents since the assault, but the sense of imminent danger felt no less imminent to Liv. Maybe that was her heart thinking again.

                “Truth be told, I’ve got a couple of hours of work ahead of me.” Liv’s face must have given away her exasperation, because she amended, “But I was planning to pack it up and take it home with me since we both know what happens when I try to pull all-nighters and fail.” She shook her head wryly before Liv could say a word.

                Liv couldn’t resist a smirk. “That was something all right.”  She pushed herself up and out of her chair in an unspoken signal to Casey that it was about that time.

                Casey just smiled, then, grimaced, sipping what had to be cold coffee from a depressing paper cup.  As though sensing Liv’s thought, she said, “Yeah, I broke my mug this morning. Guess I was still more tired than I thought I was.” She sighed. “I really liked that one, too.  Liz gave it to me after the Lowell case—remember that one?”

                Liv didn’t, but didn’t say so. Regardless, Casey carried on.

                “Yeah, apparently I’d actually done a good job for a change. Imagine that. Imagine Liz Donnelly actually admitting that. Now, there’s no proof it ever happened and no one will ever believe me if I say it did.”

                Liv was leaning against the frame of her door. “You know I will.”

                Casey looked up from where she’d trained her eyes on her desk.  “That’ll be enough, then.”

                “Glad to hear it,” Liv said with a smile that came unbidden, and had to admit that she was.  She couldn’t quite remember when they had become as close as this, but she was happy about it, if a little confused.  “So, you ready to head out?”

                Her ADA gave her office a lingering inspection: the desk, the coat rack, the shelves, even the floor.  “Yeah, I think that’s it. Would you mind grabbing my coat?”

                “Nope.” Liv plucked it from the rack and held it out for the statuesque ADA with porcelain skin.  She slipped her arms in and tied it shut.

                “Thank you, by the way,” Casey said, going back to gathering her files into her briefcase.

                “For what,” Liv had to ask.  She was the one who should be doing the thanking, for everything lately.

                “For remembering I was here. I can’t even count how many years it’s been since someone’s come to check on me at work.  I guess, with all the people we see who just fall through the cracks and disappear without being noticed, it’s nice to think I might not be one of them.” She straightened up her desk and turned to sit against it.  Liv was used to this image of her; she wondered why now it made her feel so different.

                “I could never forget you, Casey. I don’t think I’d ever want to try.” It must have been the intimacy of the moment, she thought, that made her so honest.

                “Thank you,” Casey said again, though to Liv it sounded suspiciously like I’d never want to forget you either. She thought she must have been imagining things.

                She certainly didn’t imagine her hand on Casey’s back as they left the room, but she didn’t move it either. Some things are just right. That was one of them.

                In the car on the way home—she didn’t even think to check whose—she was also struck by the rightness of feeling Casey beside her.  The streetlights’ strobing beams caressing her face and setting her eyes afire against the midnight sky was a difficult image to ignore.  Casey always had a way of looking like a siren that had gotten sick of the myth and stepped off the page.  The fearful part of Olivia dreaded the day when she’d want to return; because, in her mind, that day was inevitable.

                Still, she felt her stomach clinch with warmth borne of affection when she saw that her ADA had fallen asleep.  If losing her was unavoidable, Liv thought she deserved, even just for a while, the chance to love her first.

                A red light momentarily halted their journey and this was her chance. She reached out and touched Casey’s shoulder and when that failed to rouse her, stroked her cheek.  Her companion came to suddenly but soundlessly, like a switch had been flicked and she was back.

                She was and Liv was—and they were headed home, to Liv’s place. Casey didn’t seem to mind. In fact, she seemed to smile a little wider when she recognized the neighborhood.

~!~

                This time, it was Liv who offered her bed. “It’s not Egyptian cotton, but it’s comfortable.” She laid her keys on the hall table and hung her jacket on the hook.

                “I think I can make it work,” Casey said as she had kicked off her shoes and untied her coat. It had taken her no time to make herself at home. Liv liked that Casey fit right in with all her things.  She wasn’t a stark contrast to everything that gave Liv comfort; she was right at the center of them.

                Liv disappeared into her bedroom to straighten up the area. As someone who came home to sleep and lived elsewhere for the most part, her bedroom showed the greatest signs of her neglect. The sheets were clean but rumpled and there was laundry on the floor—both washed and not.  She did the best she could with the wrinkled bed coverings and made a passionate attempt to differentiate between her abandoned clothes.   It didn’t much matter; she’d wash it all over the weekend.  She just wanted it out of the way tonight.

                Once she’d finished, she shed her work clothes and replaced them with sweats and a tank. After that she came back to the living room where Casey had curled up on her couch with an intimidating stack of paperwork. Liv threw herself into the adjacent armchair, garnering a smile from her girl.

                “So,” she began, “did everything turn out all right with the judge? Donnelly?” Liv wanted to put to rest the feeling that she could have prevented all this if she’d just stopped by Casey’s place earlier like Elliot had offered. If she had, chances were good that Casey’s door would have been in pieces and they wouldn’t be here right now.  That would have been the real shame.

                Casey made a face. “Let’s just say I’ve got the professional equivalent of after-school detention for the foreseeable future.”  She flipped to another page in a dossier.

                “Ah,” Liv started to grin.  “But you have a job and you weren’t expecting that.”

                “Aren’t you Miss ‘Sunnyside Up’ tonight?” said Casey with dancing brows.

                Liv gave an introspective shrug. “I’ve been too lucky—I am too lucky to be a pessimist at the moment.”

                She put down her pen and looked at Liv directly. “Would it be presumptuous of me to hope I had something to with that?” She found it hard to doubt herself when she didn’t see an ounce of doubt in the face before her.

                The detective took a deep breath and sat her chin on her hand.  “Not in the least. I haven’t felt this good in a long time. I don’t know, I think knowing you is good for me.”

                Casey mimicked her posture. “I feel exactly the same way.” Then, she let out a yawn and stretched, moaning. “One more hour of this and I can call it a night. Thank God.”

                Liv unfolded her legs out in front of her. “You want me to stay up with you?”

                “You don’t have to. Just make sure I have a warm bed to sleep in and I’m golden,” said her guest, nose back down to the grindstone. The moment was gone and Liv still wasn’t sure what it had been about.

                “Yes, you are,” the detective uttered to herself as she began to leave. She brushed her fingers across the back of Casey’s neck and was gone before the other woman could turn to look.

                She crawled into bed alone, admittedly a bit disappointed to do so. She didn’t know what it was she wanted from tonight or from this woman who’d swept into her life like a whirlwind and changed her. For Liv, these feelings were new ground and this situation was a little different than any she’d found herself in before.  Casey was different from the people she’d cared about before. Maybe, she thought, what had really changed was the fear.

                It still existed, with its gemstone facets and inexpressible dimensions, but it wasn’t paralyzing as it had been once. The brightest aspect of it that she could never fail to discern was that which told her that she would regret letting this one get away.  Like she had believed Casey when she’d left her standing alone in that bar not so many nights ago, she believed it.  She wasn’t going to let Casey Novak get away.

                Still, one more night couldn’t hurt and she drifted off with her arms wrapped around her pillow because she couldn’t hold the one who’d decked her dreams.

                Later—much later than promised, she felt the conspicuous shifting of sheets that signaled company at her side. She smiled, but only slightly, too content with her position to even consider vacating her spot in the middle of the bed.  Only ticklish prodding could convince her to roll towards one side and surrender the comfort.  The loss became worth it when perpetually cool skin wrapped around her naturally warmer self and stayed close.          A soft sigh brushed her neck, an arm found her waist, and musical fingers splayed against her stomach.

                It was more than nice, far more.

~!~

                With a couple more hours of sleep under her belt, Liv was the first to rouse.  She awoke to a familiar scent curling her toes.  It wasn’t breakfast—Casey would have had to be a witch to conjure up anything substantive from her fridge—but it was something no less tempting. Spilling over her cheek and shoulder was a river than ran an unforgettable shade red.  She touched it and was nearly undone again.

                Olivia wasn’t so romantic as to think that the softness of hair had anything to do with the softness of hearts or lips, or anything that sentimental. But the softness of Casey’s slumbering expression when she’d combed through her hair with unconcealed reverence had reached down to the center of her. This was what she wanted in her life, in her bed; these were the arms she wanted to sleep in.  Liv smiled, suddenly overcome. It was time to return a favor.

~!~

                Casey awoke with a grumpy “Why?” and tried to burrow into the sheets per custom.  Her hostess was having none of it, pulling out all the stops to coax her to the land of the living.  She didn’t want to go; she liked the heavenly place she’d fallen into, with her smoky-eyed detective and never-ending kisses so long they became redundant, because they never ended.  The world she lived in wasn’t like that, and that made it hard a place to want to come back to.

                “Ms. Novak,” came her friend—only her friend, she inwardly groused, “you’re in contempt.”  She should not have gotten goose bumps when the whisper caressed her ear.  She shook herself free of sleep immediately. There was no accounting for anatomy.

                “I’m up,” she said, throwing off the sheets and scrambling for the floor—not to retreat, but to get closer. Liv offered her hand and she took it, savoring the strength in it and the certainty. Something had changed, she’d simply yet to find out what.

                Once they reached Liv’s kitchen, she saw why her detective had seen fit to pull her out of bed before the intrusive chirp of an alarm clock would dare. Waiting at the table were half a dozen kinds of sweets and coffee that made her knees feel weak.  Liv had gotten her breakfast.  She smiled at her friend, who resembled more a shy schoolgirl than anything just now.

                “It’s not bacon and eggs,” she shrugged.

                Casey squeezed the hand she still held. “It’s perfect. Thank you.”

                Liv beamed and Casey’s heart definitely skipped a beat.  She never smiled like that and the wonders it did told the story of what a shame that was.  Casey decided that she’d have to see to it that Liv smiled more. So far, so good, she told herself as Liv offered her a seat at the table.

                Casey began to nibble at anything she could get her hands on, to Liv’s apparent delight.  She seemed content with a couple of Danish and her steaming mug of coffee; that and watching Casey.

                The ADA fought off the urge to flush.  She’d given Liv a similar treatment more than once now; it shouldn’t have been so bothersome, but there it was.  The flush rose and her detective laughed. At least that was something.

                “You didn’t have to go pick these up for me, y’know,” she said around a bite of delicious cinnamon roll.

                “Well, I can’t cook as well as you can, but I do know good when someone puts it in front of me. I knew the bakery was open and that you liked sweets.” She hesitated for a moment before proceeding with a roll of her eyes.  “There’s even a bacon croissant in there somewhere.”

                Casey perked up, delicately picking through the pastries until she was assailed with a certain distinguished scent. “Found it!”  Half it was gone as quickly as she could chew.  The other half ended up in Olivia’s hand.    Her caretaker raised an eyebrow.  Casey shrugged. “It’s only fun if we both have a good time.”

                “I’ll buy that,” she said and began to munch on the treat with due enjoyment.  “You know,” she began once she’d finished, “Elliot said something the yesterday that really got me thinking.”

                “Yeah,” she prompted, waiting for Liv to go on.  Her breakfast companion took a deep breath and did just that.

                “He was sort of saying—or not really saying, but implying—that there’s a thing with us.”

                It was Casey’s turn to raise an eyebrow.  “A thing?”

                “Yeah. You see, I worried about you when you were gone—a lot more than I’d worry about just anyone.  I was happier to see you and know you were okay than I thought I’d be. I wouldn’t have opened the door before six in the morning for anyone who wasn’t you or Elliot, with a damned good excuse.” She smiled and Casey was helpless not to return it.  “I didn’t know that about myself, but I fought against it anyway.”  She clutched her mug like a touchstone and Casey had to keep herself from reaching out to soothe the worry away.  She wasn’t sure when she’d become that person to Liv, but she still wanted to.  “You’re my friend, Casey, but I need to know—is that all you are?”

                Clad in what was left of yesterday power suit, Casey felt a little powerless underneath Liv’s gaze.  She had wanted this, did want this, yet the idea of scared her a little.  She was stepping into massive shoes with regard to the one who’d gotten away—and she was afraid to fail. Most of all though, she was afraid to have regrets, and letting Olivia Benson leave her company with less than a kiss would be the worst.

 “It’d be nice,” she started with a courageous smile, “to have someone to share those sheets with.”

“I’m up for that,” said her detective with a reputation for darkness and suddenly without the disposition to match.  Their hands found each other and it was easy. “I guess Elliot’s right then, we are a little more than friends.”  She looked relieved, like a gamble had come to gold.  Casey was feeling a bit golden indeed just now.

“I hope so.” Eventually, Casey stood, intent on actually getting ready for work today. She also needed a chance to still her racing heart.  With a look that was no longer uncertain, Liv was beginning to melt her from within. There just wasn’t time today.  Although, God, she wished.

“Just promise me one thing,” Liv said to the woman who hoped to call her a lover soon.

                Casey raised an eyebrow expectantly. “Name it.”

                “No more of your ex-girlfriends’ leftovers.” The ADA’s composure cracked and she laughed. That woman of the pond eyes and corn silk hair was history, exactly where Casey wanted Serena Southerlyn to stay.

                “How about this,” Case offered, coming around the table to lean close to Liv’s lips. “No more ex-girlfriends.”

                Eyes impossibly darker and voice huskier than time would permit, her detective whispered, “I’ll take it.”

                And they kissed.

 

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