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“And if the world would opt to be against us, I’d let the fate decide. I would run as fast as I could just to get a hold of you. And I will never let go. Just for a moment, I’d take one second, even— for the possibility of us two.”
Seeing Casey and knowing that she took over; she replaced her, it sparked something inside of Alex. It wasn’t jealousy, no. She’ll never be jealous of Casey. It’s pleasant. Something alarming, yet warm, and stupid—mostly stupid. It was unexplainable but it was not unwelcome.
It was silly, her crush on the woman. Frustrating, not knowing what she should do to get noticed by her. And, right now, Alex is alone with her.
“You know, we’ve gone over all my questions, I think you’re ready.”
“Are you?” Alex asked, almost arrogant; It was concern disguised with venom. At this moment, all the younger woman’s attention was focused on her, and she doesn’t need to do anything; and she’s screwing it up. She didn’t mean to, she was nervous. But she shouldn’t let it out on Casey, it was not fair. She winced, “Casey, I’m sorry. That was… out of line,” she muttered.
Alexandra Cabot takes pride being the receiving end of an apology, but she’s never one to ask for it. With Casey, though, it was easy.
Casey nodded; she really did not take offence. “It’s gotta be hard to be on that side of the desk,” she husked, her voice more of empathizing than of pity.
Alex nods her head, sighing “yeah.” Casey felt a twitch in her heart. The blonde looked like a lot has going on inside her mind, far from the always cool and collected Ice Queen she’d always heard about before, or she’s lucky enough to be breathing the same air with inside an elevator, twice.
“If Antonio doesn’t testify, we’re screwed.”
“I know,” Alex acquiesced. Both women sigh in chorus, the occurrence making them chortle a laugh.
The laughter died down; Alex maintained eye contact with the woman in front of her. “I wanted you to know that I trust you.”
Casey’s brows furrowed a little, “what?”
Alex wetted her lips. “There’s no one I’d rather prosecute my case than you.”
“Hmm,” Casey hummed, nodding her head. “Really?”
“You don’t believe me?” Alex feigned offence.
Casey huffed a chuckle. “I mean, I just thought you’d want Abigail Carmichael.”
“If.. our roles were reversed, you would want Abigail Carmichael to prosecute your case and not me?”
“Uhm, yeah?” Casey shrugged.
“Hey!”
“Or Serena.”
“Southerlyn?” Alex asked, frowning.
Casey nodded, “yeah.”
The blonde winced, “ouch.”
Casey giggled. “Of course, it would be you. I was kidding.”
Alex hummed, shaking her head. “I deserved that. For questioning your.. ability.”
“Alex.”
“It was offensive. What I said.”
“It was. Though, I wasn’t affected.”
“You’re not offended?” Alex asked, surprised.
“Not in the least,” Casey replied, a soft smile on her face.
Casey holds Alexandra’s hands with hers. She felt embarrassed when the older woman looked up, as if sensing what she’s about to say, the redhead lets out a soft chuckle, a shy smile on her face.
“It’s sweaty, I’m sorry.”
Alex chuckled, shaking her head. “They’re warm.” Comforting, she wanted to add.
“You have cold hands,” Casey uttered, squeezing the blonde’s hands gently.
“Then let go.”
“And if I don’t want to?”
The older woman shrugged. “I have no objection to that.”
“Then I’d keep holding you.” Casey smiled—it was stupid, cocky— yet Alex was so fond of it.
Alexandra nodded her head, eyes drifting to her hands clasped by Casey’s.
For a moment, what’s about to happen did not matter. All her worries washed away, replacing by a feeling of warmth, a sense of certainty, though it’s blurry, it was there. She felt grounded, by just a simple hold, a single touch. It’s funny; baffling; surprising— it’s everything.
The redhead’s hands, although sweaty, are to hold Alex—for times like this, or just because— they are to keep her warm, safe… home.
Casey shifted, her right hand letting go of Alex’s, wrapping it around her body. The redhead lets out a soft sigh when she felt the blonde’s sharp breath against her neck, her body letting all the tension go, relaxing against Casey. The older woman has never felt this contented; so vulnerable.
Being held by Casey feels like nothing holds any significance; the world doesn’t exist— at all. The fear of tomorrow’s vagueness, the rage towards the man who attempted to put an end to her life, the consistent urge to keep thinking as a prosecutor; regrets of missing important events on her friends’ lives, her guilt of her mother’s passing thinking she’s actually dead, that kept haunting her; the agony— all gone.
With Casey—her arm protectively wrapped around her, and the other holding her hands ever so gentle yet firm— she feels so free. She wasn’t the infamous ice queen whom her colleagues feared, nor the Alex Cabot who’s not scared of going after big cartels, neither Emily from Tulsa. She simply is Alexandra Cabot, what she was once before everything else, who she still is, just suppressed, terrified that version of her that holds her truest form will get eaten alive by the world she chose to step her foot into. She’s not afraid anymore, at least not right now, not with the younger woman. Alex doesn’t feel like she’s a victim.
In Casey’s eyes, she’s not a victim, and Alex has never felt so seen, heard, validated— she felt human.
Emanated by Casey’s solitude, Alexandra Cabot felt fearless.
Alex wanted more of this, of the redhead, she wanted more than this. With the blonde in her arms, Casey doesn’t want anything else. If fate’s on their side, that is.
Maybe some other time, in another life.
———
Somewhere in Casper, Wyoming, a woman woke up from her sleep, she was panting, beads of sweat around her forehead. Her heart beating fast, she feels uneasy, but she doesn’t know why. Something is wrong but she couldn’t figure out what. She clutched on her chest, shutting her eyes tight.
Something doesn’t feel right. It was as if an instinct. Like there’s an unknown connection linking her to what was about to happen, what’s happening, what has happened. Alex takes a deep breath, stabling the rate of her pulse. Her mind travelling back to that certain night she shared with the redhead.
In 1-6 precinct of Manhattan, New York, on the bullpen, sat Casey, Detective Elliot Stabler beside her, inspecting her. She just got her whole life flashed right before her eyes for seconds when she was held at gunpoint. It was terrifying, but above all, the redhead finds it amusing because her flashbacks contained the night she spent with a certain blonde attorney, and most seconds she spent imprinting it.
The moment they once shared together, now becomes a treasured memory for the both of them. Unbeknownst to both women, if one is patient enough to wait, and the other so hopeful, a destiny of shared thousand laughter and millions of special occasions and milestones will be written; two souls, two hearts sharing as one. They could make a history.
Right now, they will bask in the reminder of the night of their encounter; both sighing in content (although apart), thankful they have something to remember.