[fic] Just A Little, Nothing More - SVU, Casey/Alex - for lgbtfest
Written for this year's lgbtfest
Title: Just A Little, Nothing More
Author: calleigh_j
Fandom: Law & Order: SVU
Pairing/characters: Alex Cabot/Casey Novak
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: All recognisable characters belong to NBC; no copyright infringement intended; no money is being made from this
Prompt: 45 - Any fandom, any characters, A character thought being gay meant not wanting children wouldn't be a problem. But now hir long-term partner has other ideas.
Summary: AU, established relationship. Casey wants children, Alex is certain of that now, and Alex wants Casey, and she doesn't know what to do with that.
Warnings: Um, it gets pretty fluffy?
Author's Notes: I'd been wanting to write this fic for ages and this prompt seemed like the perfect thing to make me actually write it. Giant hugs to oparu for listening to me flail when I couldn't get my words out, and enormous thanks to cleo2584 who told me how to say what I meant and made it altogether more coherent.
For once, devotion is enough - 'Ed's Song', Richard Buckner
Alex realizes it one day, out of the blue, and once she sees it, it seems so painfully obvious that she doesn't know how she didn't see it before.
They're sitting in a cafe on a Thursday lunchtime, coffee and empty plates in front of them, and a couple with a young child the next table over. The child's stroller is facing them and the little girl smiles. Casey smiles back and the girl's grin widens. After a few minutes of mutual smiling, the girl's mother looks over at Alex and Casey and says, "She likes you."
"She's gorgeous," Casey gushes, "How old is she?"
"Eleven months last week," the woman says, taking the girl out of her pushchair and settling her on the man's lap, next to Casey.
"What's her name?" Casey asks, watching as the child picks up small pieces of bread from her mother's plate and lifting them with relative accuracy to her mouth.
"Molly," the woman says, "And I'm Jenn, and this is my husband Mark."
"I'm Casey, and this is Alex."
The woman - Jenn - smiles at Alex, and Alex returns the expression a little awkwardly. Alex leans back in her chair and watches. Casey asks Mark and Jenn question after question about their daughter - is she talking, is she walking, how does she sleep - and they sound to Alex like questions a mother would ask. As a general rule, Casey tends to be friendly but guarded with people she doesn't know, but this version of Casey sat across from her is softer somehow and more open. Alex finds herself feeling vaguely uncomfortable. She feels on the outside, as though these three people and this little girl are a part of something Alex doesn't understand.
Deep in conversation with Jenn, Casey stops mid-sentence and pulls her ringing cellphone from her bag.
"Hello?...yeah, I know the...what happened?...of course, I'll be right there." A change comes over Casey the moment she answers the phone and she's back to being the person Alex knows.
Gulping down the last of her coffee, Casey slips her phone back into her bag and pushes her chair back.
"I'm so sorry, I have to rush back to work." She pulls on her coat and waves at Molly.
"Bye Molly."
"Bye," Molly repeats, making a clumsy imitation of Casey's wave.
"I'll see you at home," Casey says, leaning over and kissing Alex on the cheek before pushing through the crowd and out the door.
"Your girlfriend's good with kids," Jenn says.
"Yeah, she is," Alex agrees, staring at the empty seat across from her.
***
The afternoon passes slowly. None of the cases she's working on seem to hold her attention for longer than a few minutes. A phone call from an insurance company with details she needs for a case provides a brief distraction, but when Alex hangs up the phone, her thoughts return to the way Casey played and chatted with the little girl at lunchtime. There was an ease in their interaction that made Alex nervous.
Alex has two photos on her desk: one of her with her mother taken only a couple of weeks before Alex went into witness protection, and one of her and Casey, taken a few months previously when they were celebrating Olivia's birthday. Alex recalls her own early birthdays and remembers being given dolls to play with. Even then, she'd never had any desire to have children of her own and rather than playing house with her friends, she sat her dolls in rows and taught them about the books she was reading and the things she was learning at school. By the time she reached high school, she was pretty sure of her sexuality. In many ways, it was a relief to realise that she was gay. At the very least, she imagined that this meant the idea having children was completely out the window. It wasn't that she disliked children - she thought babies were cute and, in lonely teenage years, could see the appeal of someone to love unconditionally and who would hopefully return that love. She just didn't want it for herself, didn't see herself as having any great maternal instinct, couldn't imagine herself playing the role of mother.
The phone rings again, startling Alex from her thoughts. This time, it's a lawyer friend of hers asking advice on a case of his own. Alex answers his questions as best she can and wishes him luck on his case. It's past six and Alex knows she won't get anything else accomplished, so she packs up the things she needs to take home and switches off her computer. Before she leaves the office, she calls Casey to say she's heading home: the call goes straight to voicemail and Alex leaves a brief message to say she'll be home soon.
She elects to walk home - it's still light and comfortably warm outside and she needs the time to herself. Within three blocks, she's seen five children of varying ages and has given up entirely trying to think about anything else than her lunch with Casey. All she can see is the way Casey changed around Molly, how interested she was in everything the little girl did and everything her parents said. Casey wants children, Alex is certain of that now, and Alex wants Casey, and she doesn't know what to do with that.
***
When Alex opens the apartment door, she can smell Chinese food and it makes her smile: Chinese food means Casey had a good day and even if Alex's afternoon has been completely unproductive, she's glad Casey's was apparently more successful.
"Hey," Casey calls out from across the hall, "I'm in the kitchen."
Alex hangs her coat up by the door and drops her attache case on the floor. She slips off her shoes and heads into the kitchen. Casey's standing in front of the island taking small cartons of food out of a plastic bag and organising them into two piles. A bottle of wine stands open by the sink, two half-filled glasses beside it.
"How was the rest of your day?" Casey asks as she pulls two sets of chopsticks out the bag, snaps them apart, and places one set on top of each pile of cartons.
"Dull," Alex replies, reaching across the island and picking up the cartons, chopsticks balancing precariously on top. She carries them across the hallway and into the lounge, Casey following behind with the wine. The cartons go on the low coffee table in front of the couch and as Alex slumps onto the couch, she picks up the first carton and opens it. The meal passes quietly, neither woman speaking except to ask the other to pass one of the cartons or change the channel on the TV.
"What's wrong?" Casey asks, nudging Alex's leg with her foot a little while after the food is finished. Alex is silent for a moment, wondering whether if she should say what's actually been on her mind and possibly start a conversation she's not sure she wants to have. She's been thinking all afternoon and objectively she thinks they should talk about: after the years in the WPP lying to everyone about everything, honesty is important to Alex. But at this point, she can't see how it can mean anything other than the end.
"Come on," Casey says, persistent as ever, "You've barely said a word all evening."
Alex looks at her and sees the worry in her eyes and knows that she has to tell the truth. She bites the bullet and asks, "Do you want kids?"
"I'm sorry?" Casey seems completely taken aback by the question.
"Do you want kids?" Alex repeats, twisting on the couch to tuck her legs up underneath her.
"Why do you ask?"
"I was watching you with that little girl at lunchtime," Alex explains, "And you just seemed so good with her. I know you love your nieces and nephews, and I was just wondering if it was something you wanted."
"Yeah," Casey replies, "I'd like to have children. Not now, but in a couple of years maybe."
It's the answer she knew she was going to hear, but still Alex feels her stomach drop. CNN plays on the TV and they sit in awkward silence until the next commercial break when Alex gets up.
"I'm going to make tea. Do you want some?"
"Please," Casey replies, eyes fixed on the TV screen.
Alex takes as many empty cartons as she can back into the kitchen and drops them into the trash. She fills the kettle and puts it on the stove before pulling a couple of mugs from a cupboard and resting them on the counter, spooning a little sugar into one. She watches the flames flicker under the kettle, their random movements finally distracting her from her busy thoughts. They distract her so completely that she doesn't hear Casey come into the kitchen.
"Do you want kids?" Casey asks softly, and Alex straightens up and hits the top of her head hard on the underside of the wall cupboard.
"Shit," she exclaims, lifting her hand instinctively to the spot and feeling for any damage.
"God, are you okay?" Casey asks as she closes the small distance between them and covers Alex's hand with her own.
"Yeah, I don't think there's any permanent damage," Alex replies wryly, taking her hand away and bending her head forward so Casey can look.
"I didn't mean to startle you," Casey says, smoothing down Alex's hair.
The whistling of the kettle announces that the water's boiling and Casey takes over the making of the tea while Alex leans back against the counter and tries to resist the urge to poke at her sore head. Casey hands her a mug and steps back until she's resting against the island.
"So, in all the excitement, you didn't answer my question," Casey says, breathing in the steam from her tea.
"Do I want kids?" Alex repeats, trying to sound as if she'd forgotten the question. Casey nods and Alex can tell she hasn't fooled her.
"Honestly," Alex says quietly, "I don't want kids."
She lets her words hang briefly before continuing when Casey doesn't say anything.
"I understand if this changes things," she says quickly, "I don't want you to give up anything for me."
"Why would I be giving something up for you?" Casey asks with a raised eyebrow.
"If you want kids and I don't, I don't want to stop you from having what you want," Alex says.
"You're what I want," Casey says simply. She sets her tea down behind her and walks towards Alex, resting her hands on Alex's hips, "I love you. I'm not going to break up with you because you don't want to have children."
"But if they're important to you..." Alex starts, trying to get her point across.
"Alex, will you just listen to me?" Casey says firmly, "I want you. If it's a choice between kids and no you, or you and no kids, I choose you every time."
Alex can hear the sincerity in Casey's voice and she wants to believe it but can't quite let go.
"I just want you to be happy," Alex says finally. She feels like there's something still unsaid: as if despite everything Casey's saying, she's forcing Casey to give up on something she's always wanted.
"I am happy," Casey says, "You make me happy. That's all that matters. Yes, I would like to have children one day: being with you doesn't change that. But I don't feel like my life is incomplete without kids and I do feel, and this is going to sound unbearably sappy," she adds, rolling her eyes, "I do feel like my life would be incomplete without you."
There's a pause, and then Alex laughs.
"Hey," Casey says indignantly, "I'm trying to reassure you here - you're not supposed to be laughing at me."
"I'm sorry," Alex says, stifling her laughter, "But you're right: that was incredibly sappy."
It is sappy, but Alex knows exactly how she feels.
"It's true though," Casey says, serious again, and this time Alex believes it.
They look at one another for a moment and it's easy again. Then Casey takes Alex's hand and pulls her out of the kitchen.
"I think you'd be a good mother," Casey comments as they head back to the lounge.
"Really?" Alex doesn't even try to hide the surprise in her voice.
"Sure," Casey says. She doesn't elaborate and Alex lets the idea float between them.
"Maybe," Alex begins a moment later, "Maybe in a couple of years we could talk about this again. I'm not saying I suddenly want to have kids or anything, but..." She trails off, uncertain of how to express what she wants to say.
"But what?" Casey prompts.
"I never really thought about it before: you and me and kids," Alex explains, "Before, when I thought about it, it was really just me and a child and it didn't work. Maybe if there was you as well, it could work."
Casey doesn't say anything, just squeezes Alex's hand and Alex knows whatever they do, they'll make it work together.
Title: Just A Little, Nothing More
Author: calleigh_j
Fandom: Law & Order: SVU
Pairing/characters: Alex Cabot/Casey Novak
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: All recognisable characters belong to NBC; no copyright infringement intended; no money is being made from this
Prompt: 45 - Any fandom, any characters, A character thought being gay meant not wanting children wouldn't be a problem. But now hir long-term partner has other ideas.
Summary: AU, established relationship. Casey wants children, Alex is certain of that now, and Alex wants Casey, and she doesn't know what to do with that.
Warnings: Um, it gets pretty fluffy?
Author's Notes: I'd been wanting to write this fic for ages and this prompt seemed like the perfect thing to make me actually write it. Giant hugs to oparu for listening to me flail when I couldn't get my words out, and enormous thanks to cleo2584 who told me how to say what I meant and made it altogether more coherent.
For once, devotion is enough - 'Ed's Song', Richard Buckner
Alex realizes it one day, out of the blue, and once she sees it, it seems so painfully obvious that she doesn't know how she didn't see it before.
They're sitting in a cafe on a Thursday lunchtime, coffee and empty plates in front of them, and a couple with a young child the next table over. The child's stroller is facing them and the little girl smiles. Casey smiles back and the girl's grin widens. After a few minutes of mutual smiling, the girl's mother looks over at Alex and Casey and says, "She likes you."
"She's gorgeous," Casey gushes, "How old is she?"
"Eleven months last week," the woman says, taking the girl out of her pushchair and settling her on the man's lap, next to Casey.
"What's her name?" Casey asks, watching as the child picks up small pieces of bread from her mother's plate and lifting them with relative accuracy to her mouth.
"Molly," the woman says, "And I'm Jenn, and this is my husband Mark."
"I'm Casey, and this is Alex."
The woman - Jenn - smiles at Alex, and Alex returns the expression a little awkwardly. Alex leans back in her chair and watches. Casey asks Mark and Jenn question after question about their daughter - is she talking, is she walking, how does she sleep - and they sound to Alex like questions a mother would ask. As a general rule, Casey tends to be friendly but guarded with people she doesn't know, but this version of Casey sat across from her is softer somehow and more open. Alex finds herself feeling vaguely uncomfortable. She feels on the outside, as though these three people and this little girl are a part of something Alex doesn't understand.
Deep in conversation with Jenn, Casey stops mid-sentence and pulls her ringing cellphone from her bag.
"Hello?...yeah, I know the...what happened?...of course, I'll be right there." A change comes over Casey the moment she answers the phone and she's back to being the person Alex knows.
Gulping down the last of her coffee, Casey slips her phone back into her bag and pushes her chair back.
"I'm so sorry, I have to rush back to work." She pulls on her coat and waves at Molly.
"Bye Molly."
"Bye," Molly repeats, making a clumsy imitation of Casey's wave.
"I'll see you at home," Casey says, leaning over and kissing Alex on the cheek before pushing through the crowd and out the door.
"Your girlfriend's good with kids," Jenn says.
"Yeah, she is," Alex agrees, staring at the empty seat across from her.
***
The afternoon passes slowly. None of the cases she's working on seem to hold her attention for longer than a few minutes. A phone call from an insurance company with details she needs for a case provides a brief distraction, but when Alex hangs up the phone, her thoughts return to the way Casey played and chatted with the little girl at lunchtime. There was an ease in their interaction that made Alex nervous.
Alex has two photos on her desk: one of her with her mother taken only a couple of weeks before Alex went into witness protection, and one of her and Casey, taken a few months previously when they were celebrating Olivia's birthday. Alex recalls her own early birthdays and remembers being given dolls to play with. Even then, she'd never had any desire to have children of her own and rather than playing house with her friends, she sat her dolls in rows and taught them about the books she was reading and the things she was learning at school. By the time she reached high school, she was pretty sure of her sexuality. In many ways, it was a relief to realise that she was gay. At the very least, she imagined that this meant the idea having children was completely out the window. It wasn't that she disliked children - she thought babies were cute and, in lonely teenage years, could see the appeal of someone to love unconditionally and who would hopefully return that love. She just didn't want it for herself, didn't see herself as having any great maternal instinct, couldn't imagine herself playing the role of mother.
The phone rings again, startling Alex from her thoughts. This time, it's a lawyer friend of hers asking advice on a case of his own. Alex answers his questions as best she can and wishes him luck on his case. It's past six and Alex knows she won't get anything else accomplished, so she packs up the things she needs to take home and switches off her computer. Before she leaves the office, she calls Casey to say she's heading home: the call goes straight to voicemail and Alex leaves a brief message to say she'll be home soon.
She elects to walk home - it's still light and comfortably warm outside and she needs the time to herself. Within three blocks, she's seen five children of varying ages and has given up entirely trying to think about anything else than her lunch with Casey. All she can see is the way Casey changed around Molly, how interested she was in everything the little girl did and everything her parents said. Casey wants children, Alex is certain of that now, and Alex wants Casey, and she doesn't know what to do with that.
***
When Alex opens the apartment door, she can smell Chinese food and it makes her smile: Chinese food means Casey had a good day and even if Alex's afternoon has been completely unproductive, she's glad Casey's was apparently more successful.
"Hey," Casey calls out from across the hall, "I'm in the kitchen."
Alex hangs her coat up by the door and drops her attache case on the floor. She slips off her shoes and heads into the kitchen. Casey's standing in front of the island taking small cartons of food out of a plastic bag and organising them into two piles. A bottle of wine stands open by the sink, two half-filled glasses beside it.
"How was the rest of your day?" Casey asks as she pulls two sets of chopsticks out the bag, snaps them apart, and places one set on top of each pile of cartons.
"Dull," Alex replies, reaching across the island and picking up the cartons, chopsticks balancing precariously on top. She carries them across the hallway and into the lounge, Casey following behind with the wine. The cartons go on the low coffee table in front of the couch and as Alex slumps onto the couch, she picks up the first carton and opens it. The meal passes quietly, neither woman speaking except to ask the other to pass one of the cartons or change the channel on the TV.
"What's wrong?" Casey asks, nudging Alex's leg with her foot a little while after the food is finished. Alex is silent for a moment, wondering whether if she should say what's actually been on her mind and possibly start a conversation she's not sure she wants to have. She's been thinking all afternoon and objectively she thinks they should talk about: after the years in the WPP lying to everyone about everything, honesty is important to Alex. But at this point, she can't see how it can mean anything other than the end.
"Come on," Casey says, persistent as ever, "You've barely said a word all evening."
Alex looks at her and sees the worry in her eyes and knows that she has to tell the truth. She bites the bullet and asks, "Do you want kids?"
"I'm sorry?" Casey seems completely taken aback by the question.
"Do you want kids?" Alex repeats, twisting on the couch to tuck her legs up underneath her.
"Why do you ask?"
"I was watching you with that little girl at lunchtime," Alex explains, "And you just seemed so good with her. I know you love your nieces and nephews, and I was just wondering if it was something you wanted."
"Yeah," Casey replies, "I'd like to have children. Not now, but in a couple of years maybe."
It's the answer she knew she was going to hear, but still Alex feels her stomach drop. CNN plays on the TV and they sit in awkward silence until the next commercial break when Alex gets up.
"I'm going to make tea. Do you want some?"
"Please," Casey replies, eyes fixed on the TV screen.
Alex takes as many empty cartons as she can back into the kitchen and drops them into the trash. She fills the kettle and puts it on the stove before pulling a couple of mugs from a cupboard and resting them on the counter, spooning a little sugar into one. She watches the flames flicker under the kettle, their random movements finally distracting her from her busy thoughts. They distract her so completely that she doesn't hear Casey come into the kitchen.
"Do you want kids?" Casey asks softly, and Alex straightens up and hits the top of her head hard on the underside of the wall cupboard.
"Shit," she exclaims, lifting her hand instinctively to the spot and feeling for any damage.
"God, are you okay?" Casey asks as she closes the small distance between them and covers Alex's hand with her own.
"Yeah, I don't think there's any permanent damage," Alex replies wryly, taking her hand away and bending her head forward so Casey can look.
"I didn't mean to startle you," Casey says, smoothing down Alex's hair.
The whistling of the kettle announces that the water's boiling and Casey takes over the making of the tea while Alex leans back against the counter and tries to resist the urge to poke at her sore head. Casey hands her a mug and steps back until she's resting against the island.
"So, in all the excitement, you didn't answer my question," Casey says, breathing in the steam from her tea.
"Do I want kids?" Alex repeats, trying to sound as if she'd forgotten the question. Casey nods and Alex can tell she hasn't fooled her.
"Honestly," Alex says quietly, "I don't want kids."
She lets her words hang briefly before continuing when Casey doesn't say anything.
"I understand if this changes things," she says quickly, "I don't want you to give up anything for me."
"Why would I be giving something up for you?" Casey asks with a raised eyebrow.
"If you want kids and I don't, I don't want to stop you from having what you want," Alex says.
"You're what I want," Casey says simply. She sets her tea down behind her and walks towards Alex, resting her hands on Alex's hips, "I love you. I'm not going to break up with you because you don't want to have children."
"But if they're important to you..." Alex starts, trying to get her point across.
"Alex, will you just listen to me?" Casey says firmly, "I want you. If it's a choice between kids and no you, or you and no kids, I choose you every time."
Alex can hear the sincerity in Casey's voice and she wants to believe it but can't quite let go.
"I just want you to be happy," Alex says finally. She feels like there's something still unsaid: as if despite everything Casey's saying, she's forcing Casey to give up on something she's always wanted.
"I am happy," Casey says, "You make me happy. That's all that matters. Yes, I would like to have children one day: being with you doesn't change that. But I don't feel like my life is incomplete without kids and I do feel, and this is going to sound unbearably sappy," she adds, rolling her eyes, "I do feel like my life would be incomplete without you."
There's a pause, and then Alex laughs.
"Hey," Casey says indignantly, "I'm trying to reassure you here - you're not supposed to be laughing at me."
"I'm sorry," Alex says, stifling her laughter, "But you're right: that was incredibly sappy."
It is sappy, but Alex knows exactly how she feels.
"It's true though," Casey says, serious again, and this time Alex believes it.
They look at one another for a moment and it's easy again. Then Casey takes Alex's hand and pulls her out of the kitchen.
"I think you'd be a good mother," Casey comments as they head back to the lounge.
"Really?" Alex doesn't even try to hide the surprise in her voice.
"Sure," Casey says. She doesn't elaborate and Alex lets the idea float between them.
"Maybe," Alex begins a moment later, "Maybe in a couple of years we could talk about this again. I'm not saying I suddenly want to have kids or anything, but..." She trails off, uncertain of how to express what she wants to say.
"But what?" Casey prompts.
"I never really thought about it before: you and me and kids," Alex explains, "Before, when I thought about it, it was really just me and a child and it didn't work. Maybe if there was you as well, it could work."
Casey doesn't say anything, just squeezes Alex's hand and Alex knows whatever they do, they'll make it work together.