[fic] [100 women] [SVU] Maybe This Is Heaven
Title: Maybe This Is Heaven
Fandom: SVU
Author: calleigh_j
Rating: PG/PG-13
Warnings/Spoilers: Spoilers specifically for 9.03 'Impulsive'
Pairing: Casey/Alex established relationship
Word Count: 1,345
Disclaimer: I own neither the characters nor the title
Summary: She knows how Casey feels; remembers all too well the times she felt responsible for a bad verdict, for an unhappy ending, even when logically she knew it wasn’t her fault and that she’d done the best she could
Feedback/Concrit: Is made of win and much appreciated
Author's Note: I've been talking about writing Casey/Alex fic for ages, and finally I've managed it; written for 100_women prompt 090, Comfort; title comes from Field Of Dreams (“Is this heaven?” “No, this is Iowa.” “Iowa? I could've sworn it was heaven.” “Is there a heaven?” “Oh yeah. It's the place where dreams come true.” “Maybe this is heaven.”); thanks to alianne for beta-ing
When Alex gets home, Casey’s curled up asleep in the corner of the couch. There’s an empty wine glass on the table behind her head and an episode of ‘The X-Files’ on the TV. Alex shrugs off her coat and hangs it up beside the door before slipping off her shoes and heading into the kitchen. She puts on the kettle, noting that they really need to do some grocery shopping soon as she pulls mugs from a cupboard and grabs milk out of the fridge.
The kettle boils and Alex makes two cups of tea, stirring a little sugar into one. She picks up the mugs and, switching off the light as she goes, walks through into the lounge. She sits down on the couch and reaches over Casey to put one of the mugs down on the small table.
Changing the channel over to CNN - she’s been stuck in her office doing trial prep all day and feels a little disconnected from the wider world - Alex sinks down further into the couch and breathes in the steam from her tea. The change of sounds from the TV break through into Casey’s slumber and she scrunches up her faces, curls up a little tighter and mumbles, “I was watching that.”
“I made you some tea,” Alex says with a smile. Casey opens her eyes slowly.
“When did you get in?” she asks, reaching her hand out blindly behind her to pick up the tea. Bringing the mug around in front of her, she stretches her legs out across Alex’s lap.
“Just a few minutes ago,” Alex replies, rubbing her hand up and down Casey’s bare calf, “Sorry I’m so late.”
“S’ok,” Casey says, sipping her tea, “I haven’t been in that long myself.”
“What happened with your case?” Alex asks, and immediately feels Casey tense up under her hands.
“The...uh... facility Shane was sent to; one of the men working there was using a stolen identity to cover up the fact that he had a previous conviction. He attacked Shane, and the manager covered it up. He hadn’t done background checks on the staff and he just didn’t care. And when we brought in Shane’s attacker for questioning, he said it wasn’t his fault. He said he couldn’t control it. He used the exact same argument Sophie Devere used to defend Shane. I let her open the door, and now this son of a bitch is just gonna walk right through it.”
Casey’s standing now, pacing up and down between the couch and the coffee table, gesturing so wildly with her hands that Alex is afraid she’ll spill her tea. Casey seems to realise this and sets the mug down.
“Casey,” Alex says softly, “You did the right thing. You tried to give a teenage boy a second chance-”
“And all I ended up doing was getting him raped, and giving rapists something else to blame for their crimes,” Casey snaps, storming into the bedroom. Alex sighs, then gets up from the couch and follows her. She knows how Casey feels; remembers all too well the times she felt responsible for a bad verdict, for an unhappy ending, even when logically she knew it wasn’t her fault and that she’d done the best she could.
In the bedroom, Casey unbuttons her shirt and lets it fall to the floor. Almost without thinking, Alex crosses the room and picks it up. In the seven and a half months they’ve been living together, she’s learnt that Casey, whilst very organised professionally, is messy outside of the office. Alex on the other hand is compulsively neat, and though Casey’s definitely better than she was when they first moved in together, Alex still finds herself tidying up. She finds it endearing rather than irritating though, and it’s become something of a joke between the two of them.
“Casey,” she starts, putting her hand on the other woman’s shoulder. Casey flinches and steps away.
“Look, I really need to have a shower. I’ve been up since three and my hair feels disgusting and I...” Casey doesn’t really have anything more to say after that and simply trails off, unzipping her skirt and letting that too drop to the floor. Alex leans over to pick it up and Casey takes the chance to escape into the bathroom, locking the door behind her.
Alex looks at the closed door for a second, then heads over to the laundry basket and drops Casey’s clothes into it. She spends another few minutes straightening up the rest of the apartment - rinsing out the mugs, checking the doors and windows - and then she returns to the bedroom, taking her attaché with her. She slips out of her own clothing, dropping it straight into the laundry basket. Switching on the TV - it goes straight to CNN - she pulls on a pair of blue pyjama bottoms and a plain white top. She pulls back the covers and starts to rearrange the pillows from where she’d piled them up that morning. From her case, she takes one of the many files she brought home with her, climbs into bed and starts reading.
During one of the commercial breaks, she hears the water shut off. A couple of minutes after that, the hair dryer starts up. It runs for fifteen, maybe twenty minutes, and then it’s quiet in the bathroom. Casey emerges a few minutes later, now wearing pyjamas and running her hands through her hair, checking that it’s dry. She crawls into the bed, drags the covers right up to her chin, rolls away from Alex so she’s facing the bathroom door, and lies still. The sound of her carefully regulated breathing tells Alex that she’s not asleep; not even close to it. Alex keeps reading the file in her hands, not wanting to push.
Eventually, Casey rolls over onto her back and stares up at the ceiling.
“Did you...” she begins hesitantly before stopping, taking a couple of deep breaths, and starting anew, “Did you ever have a case, when you were with SVU, where you tried your hardest, you did what you thought was the right thing and it all blew up in your face?”
Alex nods. “I had a couple like that. They were the worst; however much I told myself I’d made the right decision and I’d done my best, I couldn’t help but feel guilty that I hadn’t been able to save someone or put the right person in jail.” She closes her file, slides it back into the case, and switches off the TV and the light beside the bed. She slides further down under the covers and turns onto her left side to look at Casey. Sighing, Casey rolls onto her right and meets Alex’s eyes. Alex reaches out and brushes a lock of hair back behind Casey’s ear. As she pulls her hand away, Casey’s comes up and takes hold of it in the space between them, squeezing tightly.
“It’s not your fault,” Alex says in the darkness.
“I know,” Casey replies, unconvinced and starting to pull away again. Alex leans across the bed and kisses her hard. Casey stills for a moment, and then responds, bringing both hands up to Alex’s face.
When they separate, they’re both breathing hard, and Alex is relieved to see Casey’s eyes looking brighter, a smile on her face.
“You can feel guilty,” Alex says quietly as they both shift to meet in the middle of the bed, “But you can’t let it eat you up inside. You tried your hardest, and that’s all anyone can ask of you. Promise me you won’t let this consume you.”
Casey sighs and presses her nose into Alex’s hair, breathing in deeply. “I promise,” she mumbles, stifling a yawn with her hand and adding, “I’m so tired.”
“You got anywhere you need to be tomorrow?” Alex asks, shuffling further down the bed so that the covers come right up to her chin.
“Just here,” Casey replies, closing her eyes, “That’s where I need to be.”
Fandom: SVU
Author: calleigh_j
Rating: PG/PG-13
Warnings/Spoilers: Spoilers specifically for 9.03 'Impulsive'
Pairing: Casey/Alex established relationship
Word Count: 1,345
Disclaimer: I own neither the characters nor the title
Summary: She knows how Casey feels; remembers all too well the times she felt responsible for a bad verdict, for an unhappy ending, even when logically she knew it wasn’t her fault and that she’d done the best she could
Feedback/Concrit: Is made of win and much appreciated
Author's Note: I've been talking about writing Casey/Alex fic for ages, and finally I've managed it; written for 100_women prompt 090, Comfort; title comes from Field Of Dreams (“Is this heaven?” “No, this is Iowa.” “Iowa? I could've sworn it was heaven.” “Is there a heaven?” “Oh yeah. It's the place where dreams come true.” “Maybe this is heaven.”); thanks to alianne for beta-ing
When Alex gets home, Casey’s curled up asleep in the corner of the couch. There’s an empty wine glass on the table behind her head and an episode of ‘The X-Files’ on the TV. Alex shrugs off her coat and hangs it up beside the door before slipping off her shoes and heading into the kitchen. She puts on the kettle, noting that they really need to do some grocery shopping soon as she pulls mugs from a cupboard and grabs milk out of the fridge.
The kettle boils and Alex makes two cups of tea, stirring a little sugar into one. She picks up the mugs and, switching off the light as she goes, walks through into the lounge. She sits down on the couch and reaches over Casey to put one of the mugs down on the small table.
Changing the channel over to CNN - she’s been stuck in her office doing trial prep all day and feels a little disconnected from the wider world - Alex sinks down further into the couch and breathes in the steam from her tea. The change of sounds from the TV break through into Casey’s slumber and she scrunches up her faces, curls up a little tighter and mumbles, “I was watching that.”
“I made you some tea,” Alex says with a smile. Casey opens her eyes slowly.
“When did you get in?” she asks, reaching her hand out blindly behind her to pick up the tea. Bringing the mug around in front of her, she stretches her legs out across Alex’s lap.
“Just a few minutes ago,” Alex replies, rubbing her hand up and down Casey’s bare calf, “Sorry I’m so late.”
“S’ok,” Casey says, sipping her tea, “I haven’t been in that long myself.”
“What happened with your case?” Alex asks, and immediately feels Casey tense up under her hands.
“The...uh... facility Shane was sent to; one of the men working there was using a stolen identity to cover up the fact that he had a previous conviction. He attacked Shane, and the manager covered it up. He hadn’t done background checks on the staff and he just didn’t care. And when we brought in Shane’s attacker for questioning, he said it wasn’t his fault. He said he couldn’t control it. He used the exact same argument Sophie Devere used to defend Shane. I let her open the door, and now this son of a bitch is just gonna walk right through it.”
Casey’s standing now, pacing up and down between the couch and the coffee table, gesturing so wildly with her hands that Alex is afraid she’ll spill her tea. Casey seems to realise this and sets the mug down.
“Casey,” Alex says softly, “You did the right thing. You tried to give a teenage boy a second chance-”
“And all I ended up doing was getting him raped, and giving rapists something else to blame for their crimes,” Casey snaps, storming into the bedroom. Alex sighs, then gets up from the couch and follows her. She knows how Casey feels; remembers all too well the times she felt responsible for a bad verdict, for an unhappy ending, even when logically she knew it wasn’t her fault and that she’d done the best she could.
In the bedroom, Casey unbuttons her shirt and lets it fall to the floor. Almost without thinking, Alex crosses the room and picks it up. In the seven and a half months they’ve been living together, she’s learnt that Casey, whilst very organised professionally, is messy outside of the office. Alex on the other hand is compulsively neat, and though Casey’s definitely better than she was when they first moved in together, Alex still finds herself tidying up. She finds it endearing rather than irritating though, and it’s become something of a joke between the two of them.
“Casey,” she starts, putting her hand on the other woman’s shoulder. Casey flinches and steps away.
“Look, I really need to have a shower. I’ve been up since three and my hair feels disgusting and I...” Casey doesn’t really have anything more to say after that and simply trails off, unzipping her skirt and letting that too drop to the floor. Alex leans over to pick it up and Casey takes the chance to escape into the bathroom, locking the door behind her.
Alex looks at the closed door for a second, then heads over to the laundry basket and drops Casey’s clothes into it. She spends another few minutes straightening up the rest of the apartment - rinsing out the mugs, checking the doors and windows - and then she returns to the bedroom, taking her attaché with her. She slips out of her own clothing, dropping it straight into the laundry basket. Switching on the TV - it goes straight to CNN - she pulls on a pair of blue pyjama bottoms and a plain white top. She pulls back the covers and starts to rearrange the pillows from where she’d piled them up that morning. From her case, she takes one of the many files she brought home with her, climbs into bed and starts reading.
During one of the commercial breaks, she hears the water shut off. A couple of minutes after that, the hair dryer starts up. It runs for fifteen, maybe twenty minutes, and then it’s quiet in the bathroom. Casey emerges a few minutes later, now wearing pyjamas and running her hands through her hair, checking that it’s dry. She crawls into the bed, drags the covers right up to her chin, rolls away from Alex so she’s facing the bathroom door, and lies still. The sound of her carefully regulated breathing tells Alex that she’s not asleep; not even close to it. Alex keeps reading the file in her hands, not wanting to push.
Eventually, Casey rolls over onto her back and stares up at the ceiling.
“Did you...” she begins hesitantly before stopping, taking a couple of deep breaths, and starting anew, “Did you ever have a case, when you were with SVU, where you tried your hardest, you did what you thought was the right thing and it all blew up in your face?”
Alex nods. “I had a couple like that. They were the worst; however much I told myself I’d made the right decision and I’d done my best, I couldn’t help but feel guilty that I hadn’t been able to save someone or put the right person in jail.” She closes her file, slides it back into the case, and switches off the TV and the light beside the bed. She slides further down under the covers and turns onto her left side to look at Casey. Sighing, Casey rolls onto her right and meets Alex’s eyes. Alex reaches out and brushes a lock of hair back behind Casey’s ear. As she pulls her hand away, Casey’s comes up and takes hold of it in the space between them, squeezing tightly.
“It’s not your fault,” Alex says in the darkness.
“I know,” Casey replies, unconvinced and starting to pull away again. Alex leans across the bed and kisses her hard. Casey stills for a moment, and then responds, bringing both hands up to Alex’s face.
When they separate, they’re both breathing hard, and Alex is relieved to see Casey’s eyes looking brighter, a smile on her face.
“You can feel guilty,” Alex says quietly as they both shift to meet in the middle of the bed, “But you can’t let it eat you up inside. You tried your hardest, and that’s all anyone can ask of you. Promise me you won’t let this consume you.”
Casey sighs and presses her nose into Alex’s hair, breathing in deeply. “I promise,” she mumbles, stifling a yawn with her hand and adding, “I’m so tired.”
“You got anywhere you need to be tomorrow?” Alex asks, shuffling further down the bed so that the covers come right up to her chin.
“Just here,” Casey replies, closing her eyes, “That’s where I need to be.”