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giulyaroque · 3 days ago

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Puppydog | Alex Cabot ×/ Casey Novak

I read something about the misunderstanding trope being really good for calex, so.. here it is! 9k words of Casey being unable to understand anything at all. Also, she's high out of her mind on cocaine, which is another thing I pulled from on here. @jeongonion for inspiration

Summary: Alex is sent by Elliot to investigate Casey's late-night activities, because Elliot's worried about her after she's been suspended. Alex finds her, but getting Casey to understand that all she wants to do is help is another battle on its own.

Warnings: rated M, includes graphic descriptions of drug usage, overconsumption of substances, a strip club, and attempts at sex

can also be found here, alternatively, on ao3

There was no way in hell she’s actually going to do it, Alex thought to herself, standing awkwardly and very incorrectly dressed in a corner of possibly the most shady place she had ever been in.

Bathed in exclusively the glow of gleaming, dangerously alluring neon lights, Alexandra Cabot stood frozen, her heart pounding nauseatingly in her chest, as her gaze fixated on the woman she had been attempting to seek out. At the white powder being prepared.

The air hung heavy with cigarette and vape smoke, sickly warm and disgusting to breathe in. Alex thought she would gag from the smell of sweat and polluted sex. She wanted out, she hated being here, but now that she had set eyes on Casey there was no way she’d be leaving without her.

Laughing, scantily clad strippers gently tugged wide-eyed men with foam dotting the corners of their mouths by the wrists into private rooms, and some bumped into her in their haste, though none bothered to even glance in her direction, which she was very appreciative of. She didn't want any distraction, she didn't want anything to happen that would make her glance away from the redhead for even a fraction of a second.

She wanted to move closer but she was still struggling to attribute the established, decorated assistant district attorney who had helped her regain her sense of safety, and therefore her life, with this- this woman before her, who hadn't yet noticed Alex’s eyes locked on her lithe figure.

Casey was dressed in a clipped black dress that exposed not only the entirety of her back, but also the sides of her torso, the silhouette of her breast visible from Alex’s angled perspective. The dress ended at a length Alex would generously affirm to herself was mid-thigh, and it rose up as Casey shifted, revealing even more of the pale expanse of delicious skin that was her long, lean legs, adorned with calf-high heeled black boots. Cabot felt guilty even for looking at Casey, when she was so vulnerably dressed, so exposed, even though- to her immense relief- she was still more covered than the majority of other women in the room.

Alex swallowed nervously, wanting to move closer, but worried to keep watching, worried to see. Because- there was no way Casey was actually going to do that, right?

But Casey was laughing at something her companion said, and she was settled between the thighs of a woman whose genitalia was hidden only by a thong and bralette that employed enough reflective, shiny patterns to make a disco ball flustered. Alex felt sick.

The woman, who looked beautiful in a tainted, wrong way, cupped Casey’s pale face in her hands as broken laughter continued to bubble from her throat, cooing small praises into the former attorney’s ear, sliding one hand from her defined jawline to tug on the halter formation the kept Casey’s dress together gently. Alex couldn't hear the words that slipped from the curved, cheshire-cat grin on the stripper’s face, but she was sure it wasn't something she would ever want to hear. It seemed to feed Casey, though, who almost purred, writhing closer into the faux affection with obvious enthusiasm.

Alex’s blue eyes fixated on the object of her fear, and when the situation only progressed, she knew it would happen before she could rush forward- but she couldn't force her petrified muscles to move, and she didn't know exactly what she thought she could do, anyway. If she attempted to wrangle Casey, the chances were the only outcome was Alex being kicked from the club while Casey and her vulnerable wallet stayed inside, pried open.

A thin vertical line of white had been drawn in powdered substance on the bare thigh of this other woman, and as Alex watched, shocked beyond measure, Casey lowered her head, and took the line straight off of the exotic dancer’s thigh.

Alex’s heart dropped into her stomach.

Casey pulled her head up and stood forward on her knees, into the waiting arms of the stripper, whose face split into a large encouraging grin. Casey’s intoxicated face seemed to indicate a level of contentment, her eyelids half shut as she nestled her face against the stripper's sternum. The woman’s nails trailed lightly against her face, and Casey’s eyes shut and Alex could almost hear the soft whine the ministrations elicited. With a start, Alex was snapped out of her voyeurism- the woman’s face had raised to shoot Alex a questioning look.

Bile rose in Alex’s throat and she knew she was getting weird glances shot at her from others as well for standing there numbly, dressed in jeans and a turtleneck, the expression on her face- one of pity- emphasized by the neon reds tracing the walls.

Oh god, Casey, Alex thought to herself despairingly, Oh no.

Hours earlier, she had been perched on Olivia’s desk in the bullpen, chattering animatedly about the latest news- idle chatter, but chatter was always entertaining with Liv. It had been a while since she had been able to exchange witty banter with her favorite detective ever since her return from the WITSEC, but within twenty minutes she and Olivia had already come up with multiple plans to get together sometime soon, to catch up, to rebuild the friendship.

That was until Stabler had announced his presence with an awkward clearing of his throat, rubbing his nose and placing his hands on his sides. Olivia looked up with a smile, which quickly turned into mild interest at the look of concern on Elliot’s brow.

“A quick word, Alex?” He requested, motioning with a tilt of his head. Alex and Olivia exchanged a brief glance, before Alex stood up and smoothed out her blouse.

“About the case?” Olivia piqued, but what she really wanted to question was why Stabler wasn't forthcoming about the matter of his inquiry in front of her- Stabler just shook his head quickly with an apologetic look which Liv seemed to accept.

“So, what do you need me to fix this time?” Alex murmured teasingly as she allowed Elliot to guide her to a space in the corner, a few feet away from anyone else inside the bustling precinct. Stabler’s discomfort seemed to grow, slightly.

“You remember Casey? Casey Novak?” He asked slowly, and a small part of Alex’s heart stirred.

Yes, she did remember Casey. The fiery redhead who had helped her convict- well, she had helped Casey convict, actually- the man who had almost stolen her life.

She remembered the curve of her lips and the slope of her neck, the hair curled out at the ends, the gentle honey-covered rasp of her voice as she talked Alex through the process Alex had been through tens of times. She remembered the way she so gracefully accepted her accusation and apology, her understanding. She remembered the soft sound of her chuckle, the way Casey’s hand had felt on the small of her back as Casey showed her out that night. The way the tension had felt so palpable, but doomed by circumstance.

Casey had been the epitome of what she had needed in that moment, an attorney she could place trust in, foster the embers of hope. She had been so worried that the SVU’s replacement would be someone cold, or perhaps someone lax, someone who was bending over to the will of politics, someone entirely different than her. But Casey was professional, ambitious and determined, all beautiful qualities for an esteemed attorney, while still holding the personal attributes Alex sought out in a lawyer- the immense sense of justice, the soft and warmth where it was needed. Casey had seemed almost maternal with Antonio, and lined herself up with Alex wonderfully well, able to fit the glove of what they both needed. Casey had been just that- wonderful.

She remembered green eyes that had seemed to see straight into her heart, and pink lips that had looked so alluring in the dim lighting. The want she had felt, despite everything. They hadn't, of course. But she hadn't forgotten that.

“Yes, I remember her.” Was what she said in a voice a bit more curt than she intended, but she was wary to provide the extent of her thoughts, “Why?”

“So,” Elliot rubbed his face again, a nervous tick. “She got suspended, right? You know about that?”

Alex nodded slowly, with no idea where this was going. She did know Casey had been suspended, of course, she had asked about the attorney when her life had been reinstated, seeking to extend her gratitude and hint at the possible friendship she wanted to foster, but had gotten that unsatisfactory answer. Violating the Brady Rules trying to protect an officer. If it had been Olivia, Alex thought perhaps she would've gone down the same way.

“Yes, I do. Elliot, where is this going?”

Elliot then extended his hands, holding her softly on both of her slim biceps, and Alex registered the break in his face, the desperation bleeding through.

“Olivia- she’s like, your detective, right? You two are close, you trust each other with things, you're like a duo.” Alex nodded again, although she did raise an eyebrow, since Olivia and her’s relationship did occasionally toe a line she wasn't sure Elliot was entirely aware of.

“Casey, well, she was mine.”

Alex’s eyebrows raised further, arching over one blue eye, and Elliot sighed, elaborating, although it was obvious he was going to keep explaining either way.

“We’re both Catholics, and we go to the same church- we used to- and she babysat my kids for Kathy and I a couple times. I have a big family, she does also, similar backgrounds, you know? And I- I guess, I was like her brother, and she was a sister to me. We bickered and we fought but at the end of the day, I… you know. Sibling bond. She looked out for me, I… I tried my best to look out for her.”

Elliot’s eyes were so softened, Alex relaxed, some of his concern beginning to seep into her own mind now too. She reached up to hold one of his arms, tilting her head and trying to help soothe him, because if he was displaying this degree of emotion she knew him well enough to know there was a lot more going on under the surface in his stoic body.

“Elliot, what's wrong? Did something happen?” She offered softly, and Elliot let her go, turning in a small circle- another nervous movement, an action that spoke to his heightened state of emotion, before turning back and sighing deeply.

“She got assaulted, this one night- not recently,” He added quickly at Alex’s startled expression, “in the DA’s office. By luck, Olivia had been there that night, so someone found her before- but, anyway, after that, I added her to my… Life360.”

“You have Life360?” Alex offered, trying to add a note of lightheartedness neither really appreciated.

“I have five kids, Alex, and all troublemakers. Of course I have Life360. Anyway, I just had it so I could check to make sure she got home safe at some point, you know, so I could check if I was ever worried about her. I think she forgot I have it, though.”

“Okay, so- ?” The blonde attorney shifted her weight slightly, concern and simultaneous confusion mounting. What could be wrong that Elliot would seek out her help, of all people? Not Olivia?

“Listen,” he started, “She’s- I’ve been realizing that lately she’s been out at night, increasingly, and I’ve- I know that,” he stumbled over his words, rubbing his face again, before sighing deeply.

“Casey and Olivia didn't have the most straightforward relationship, and I don't know how she’d react if I came to find her, but- but I don't like where she’s been going, and I think- I just need you to go and make sure she’s okay, alright?”

“You want me to go look for her?” Alex asked, a bit in disbelief, because- why? The note in her voice seemed to ring clearly, and Elliot sighed deeply again, growing even further uncomfortable.

“It’s a… a strip club. I keep checking her location and from- from ten to sometimes four, five in the morning she’s- she’s there.”

“She’s a stripper?” Alex said, now completely in disbelief, because there's no clue she- what? “She went from prosecutor to exotic dancer?”

“No!” Elliot barked, denying the thought firmly, “No, I don't- it's a homosexual-friendly one, I think she’s just- Jesus, Alex, I can't send Olivia because I know she’d try to tough love Casey out of it but I just need someone to go make sure she’s okay, and I know I’ll get too emotional, and just- please, okay? I don't know any other women who I’d trust to go. Please?”

Alex felt a bit shellshocked, and a bit lightheaded. She was reeling to grasp the reality of the situation, she didn't think anyone who had been as designated as Casey to end up in a place like Elliot was describing, and she didn't know if that's something she could do.

“So I’m- what am I doing, exactly?” She asked quietly, pulling on the joint of her finger.

“Just go look for her,” Elliot asked, his voice cracking just barely as he begged, dropping his guard for a fraction of a second to show her the depth of which his care extended. “Just tell me if she’s okay, or if… Alex, I really don't know. I don't want to slap her with any charges to try to convince her to turn things around because it'll jeopardize her standing, but I just- can you?”

“Okay,” Alex inhaled deeply, “Yeah, okay. Text me the address the next time you see she’s somewhere she probably shouldn't be- although I do need to remind you visiting a strip club isn't illegal on its own- and I’ll… go review her wellbeing.”

Because Elliot was right, of course, Olivia would definitely be harsh in her attempt to reinstate Casey’s self-respect, and perhaps that wasn't the best approach, because no one really knew what state the fallen lawyer had been in. But her? Why should she be the one to do this? But perhaps Elliot simply had no one else to turn too about this, and maybe she could… yes, maybe she could.

It hadn't been more than twenty four hours, only about ten exactly, just as she had been beginning to wind down for the night, when her phone went off.

Elliot Stabler → Alex

Elliot Stabler → [address.attachment]

Alex didn't respond, choosing instead to immediately search the address, grimacing at what she found. Elliot was right, it was beyond shady looking.

The images provided by the internet did not soothe her fears to any extent, rather only exacerbated them, harsh neon signs adorning the walls around deep-set couches that seemed to sink even before a figure placed themselves onto one. The place only had a few reviews, but was rated only two stars despite that, with a comment complaining about the obvious drug usage. One of the images provided was of a woman in a thong so small Alex wasn't sure it was trying to hide anything and a bralette with star-shapes covering the nipples as essentially nothing else, and it made her queasy on view. After momentarily cursing herself for letting Stabler’s obvious anxiety involve herself with this, she closed her phone and took a deep breath.

Alex swallowed, pulled herself off of the mattress, and got dressed. She didn't know what she should wear for a brief undercover mission, but the last thing she wanted was to be mistaken for someone who genuinely wanted to be there, so she swapped a nightdress out for a simple pair of jeans, sneakers and the turtleneck she had worn on the stand- perhaps, she thought to herself, that would allow Casey to recognize her, in case she didn't. Just because Casey had been fluttering around in Alex’s mind didn't mean the vice versa was true.

Before leaving her penthouse, she threw a water bottle and a handful of protein bars, because she had absolutely no clue what the appropriate materials to bring on this type of journey was, but she felt like she needed to bring something. She hesitated in the doorway before ensuring she had a wad of cash in her wallet.

The drive to the strip club was a long, quiet one. Alex was uncomfortable to turn on the radio and listen to anything, not when she was doing something like this. The only sound was the tap-tap-tapping of her fingers against the steering wheel when she got caught in the occasional red light, but thankfully the usual late-night traffic didn't waste too much of her time.

Alex began to feel increasingly anxious the closer she got to her destination. The imagery she had held, of statuesque Casey Novak pacing on the courtroom with her on the stand, each step ringing clearly in her mind, grounding her slightly with the echo, was too dear to her heart to reveal a Casey unlike that figure of protector.

But Elliot had asked her to do this, and perhaps it was time to return the favor. Casey seemed to need a protector, if Elliot was that anxious. Tarnishing her mental image was a payment worth doing if it helped her in the longitudinal case.

The bouncer didn’t bother with ID, although he made a minor comment about her choice of wear which left Alex feeling unsettled- although that feeling of slight discomfort was quietly swept into an overwhelming urge to get out as soon as possible the moment she was actually inside.

It was dark, save for the neon lights, and dingy. The air felt palpable with cigarette smoke and a combination of cheap cologne, cheaper perfume, sweat and sex. Walking through the place felt like wading in a swamp of the worst type of lust. Alex tried her best to avert her eyes from the women adorning the stage and the poles around the establishment, the mostly naked dancers serving beer-bellied men drinks and very obviously faking enthusiasm.

If Casey had chosen this place out of desperation to find someone no one she would know would ever be there, she had picked well. It was harsh, but Alex thought this might be the worst, most degrading environment she had been in.

It occurred to her, then, that she had no clue how to go about searching for Casey. The place was crowded in an confusing way, intertangled limbs on couches and women constantly flitting around, and she hadn't seen Casey in ages.

She pulled out her phone and decided to text Elliot, because her best chance was probably to work this like a detective would- simply asking the bartender, and dragging her out.

Although she had come here simply for a wellness check, there was no way she’d leave even if she affirmed Casey was perfectly fine. No one who was perfectly fine would be here, in a place like this.

← Send me a recent picture of her? I’m here

Elliot Stabler → [CAM_248594382.jpeg]

Alex’s heart sank slightly in her chest, feeling her fingers balling automatically in her chest, because Jesus Christ Casey was beautiful, and she hated that the first time she saw her in the years since the trial was going to be in a place like this.

In the picture Elliot had sent, Casey was smirking, an overexaggerated haughty tilt to her lips that could only come off as teasing. She was at a bar, but sported what Alex assumed was her court clothes- this must've been taken while celebrating a win of her’s. The image was just slightly not in focus, and it seemed like John Munch’s hand was raising behind Casey’s head in an attempt to make a pair of bunny ears he hadn't managed to create in time to be caught in the quick, candid photo.

The top of Olivia’s head was visible on the side of the frame, brunette locks against Casey’s shoulder, and Alex felt even worse. She didn't know the extent of depth contained in Casey and Olivia’s relationship, but she hoped Olivia would forgive her for not telling her about Elliot’s request.

Alex attempted to wander over to the bartender, but was intercepted by a bottle blonde woman dressed in a tight-fitting dress that failed to conceal the tip of her areolas and only barely hid the space between her thighs. A heavy layer of makeup failed to conceal the exhaustion written in the darkness under her eyes, and over lined lips failed to hide the fact she wasn't particularly eye-catching. Not like Casey was, anyway.

Alex didn't know where that thought came from.

“Hey there, lady,” The woman purred, hands raising to wrap around Alex’s arm, pushing her breast against the same bicep Elliot had held hours earlier, “Why so dressed up? You look so stiff, yo-u need some help letting loose?”

The woman spoke in a heavy Brooklyn accent, stretching the vowels of her words and fluttering her lashes in a way that must've been an attempt at seduction- an attempt that fell utterly flat faced with Alex's increasingly obvious discomfort.

After a brief failed attempt at an inhale that left as an awkward cough, Alex shook her head, averting her gaze. “No, thank you, I’m alright.”

“C’mon, da-rling,” she drawled, tapping her fingers against Alex’s arm as the attorney attempted to pull away, “Aren’t you hawt? I bet there's a sexy body beneath that sweau-ter. You need a little more privacy to take it awf? For yo-u, I’ll even lower my rates.”

“No, really. I’m only here to look for someone.” Alex muttered, shaking her head adamantly and successfully pulling her arm free. It felt impolite to try to brush off the sensation of a body pressed up against it with her other hand, but her fingers itched to do so. She tried to disguise it by smoothing the fabric out, but the attempt was clearly poorly concealed, because the entertainer looked offended.

“Well, what's yo-ur type?” She said impatiently, “You need someone to take it haard? Someone you-nger? Ou-lder? You want a big strou-ng man, Mau-ma?”

“No, no.” Alex shook her head, her brow furrowing with frustration. “Look, just- can you tell me if you've seen this woman?”

Alex turned her phone back on, displaying the image of Casey, despite immediately feeling a surge of protectiveness, something inside of her wanting to gatekeep the shared image- the image she hadn't even been there for- as her own. She didn't like the way the stripper’s eyes examined it intently.

“Auuh, Miss Puppydawg! I didn't even recognize her in a getup like that. The hell? What’s she dressed all fancy faur?”

“Puppydog?” Alex echoed incredulously, beyond uncomfortable. There was no way in hell she'd be divulging any details of Novak’s person to this woman. She felt her spine straighten awkwardly as she swallowed back another wave of nausea. “She- she actually works here?”

“Works here? Nau.” Alex tried not to let her relief be obvious, “We call her puppydawg because she’s our favorite re-gular. She’s prou-bably around here somewhe-re, homegirl au-lways is. Why the interest?”

“Favorite regular?” Alex echoed the dancer’s speech again instead of answering, turning slightly to scan the surrounding area. She couldn't see locks of auburn hair anywhere in the dimly lit room, but with a sinking feeling she realized if Casey had accepted an offer to go somewhere more private, the chance Alex could find her was little.

“Yeah, she’s soh cute. Eager to please us, even though she's the o-ne who's paying. Just wants to be told she’s good, like a dawg, get it? Miss Puppydawg. Cause she’s cute like a pu-ppy, and acts like a dawg.” The stripper babbled, pulling a cigarette out of apparently thin air- Alex had no clue where she could've been holding a cartridge- and then a lighter from between her breasts to light it with.

Alex barely contained the will to lash out. She hated the fact the woman was so casually referring to a woman who should've been Alex's esteemed colleague, one who had tried so hard and apparently fallen so far. It felt disgusting, and Alex’s skin crawled, but she bit her tongue.

After taking a long drag of the cigarette, the woman studied Alex and waited for some form of response while Alex continued surveying the room, and eventually, the stripper shrugged idly.

“If you're looking for her, yo-u won't find her out here. She’ll be in VIP, prou-bably.”

“How much?” Alex asked distractedly, wrinkling her nose at the stench of the cigarette and already beginning to walk forward a sign that hung above a doorway she assumed must lead to said section, and the exotic dancer fumbled in heels for a second to follow at her heels.

“It's- Huh?” She tried to explain, but Alex pushed a small stack of hundreds in her hand before she could finish, and with a surprised gasp the woman decided she had bigger concerns than following around a woman so intent on her mission. Alex was allowed into the section exclusively for paying members, and she continued her search inside.

The first thing she noticed was the very obvious drug usage- in here, people weren't even trying to hide it. A drug bust in a place like this would turn up thousands in supply, and possibly tens of thousands in fines. Elliot was right that attempting to discourage Casey from coming here using any legitimate legal method would likely fall flat, because being involved in a bust like this would be life-ending- assuming Casey wasn't already throwing away her life simply by choosing to be here.

Vape-smoking strippers were using phone flashlights to illuminate the workspace of clients rolling joints in their lap, and others were encouraging intoxicated people to do lines of cocaine off the glass tables, sneaking crumbled wads of cash from delirious men’s pockets. The tables were cluttered with empty shot glasses and various vessels of liquid, whether it be short tumblers with half-finished dark liquid or mysteriously colored liquid in tall skinny glasses. As Alex watched, a stripper extended her tongue while making eye contact with a client to swirl around the rim of a martini glass, and Alex had to look away, her heart pounding in her chest with the queasiness the sight brought her. She needed to find Casey and get the fuck out before she threw up from the anxiety being here gave her.

There were hallways that seemed the lead to a labyrinth of private rooms. The doors were painted in a way that made it obvious they had been painted and then repainted again and again, perhaps from people slamming against them or scratching at the wood, and as Alex walked through the dingy corridors she could hear moaning through some of them. The doors that held open, waiting for a stripper to lead a guest inside, seemed beyond unsanitary.

But even outside the private rooms, in some corners of the hallways there were chairs in which clientele were led and exotic dancers played up the act, giving a show to any passersby, making the men and handful of women who were being entertained even more rowdy and impatient to claim space for themselves.

One of those chairs, false affection on full display, was where Alex had inevitably found Casey Novak.

She had immediately grown wary of the woman entertaining her, of the way when Alex found them she had been in the process of crushing up the crystals with what she assumed was Casey's credit card. The line was formed on her thigh, and as Alex watched, frozen in horror, Casey took it.

Visiting a strip club wasn't a crime, but doing cocaine definitely was- Alex already knew, though, that she wouldn't tell a soul about finding the disgraced attorney like this.

A deep sense of pity overwhelmed her, suddenly, and she let her shoulders drop, because she understood exactly what the previous gogo dancer had been referring to. The way Casey’s legs twitched when the stripper brought her head to her chest in a tight hold, the way her eyes closed with a sickly pleased expression- Casey seemed undeniably like a lost puppy.

She just wanted someone to hold her, it seemed. Alex supposed she just wanted to not feel the surge of emotion that must be overwhelming her, the way Alex assumed she herself would feel if it truly had been her attempting to sacrifice her career for Olivia- and through substances and paying arms to embrace her, she was doing just that.

Poor Casey. Alex would hold her. Not here, but Alex would.

Alex forced her petrified muscles to move with a renewed sense of urgency, forcing her way towards the chair Casey was perched aside and ignoring the defensiveness that overtook the dancer’s previously curious posture.

“Casey, sweetheart, it’s time to go.” Alex whispered fervently in the auburn woman’s ear, bending to place her hands on Casey’s shoulders and watching with resigned horror as the woman could only tilt her head up blearily, beyond intoxicated.

“Hey,” the dancer bristled, cupping Casey’s skull and bringing the woman closer almost protectively, and Alex wanted to punch her for attempting to exploit the weakness of Alex's saviour like this. “Puppygirl, baby, do you know this bitch? You want to leave with her, honey?”

It didn't feel like a real question aimed at Casey, moreso a veiled declaration of opposition to Alex.

“I don't have time for you,” Alex snapped impatiently, straightening with a cold gleam in her blue eyes, and the sheer intensity of her gaze causing the other woman’s hold on Casey to loosen. “I’m taking her out.”

“The fuck?” The woman snapped, only to be immediately dissuaded from the argument when Alex thrust a handful of bills into her face haphazardly, seizing the momentary confusion as the dancer attempted to collect and sort out the money to tug Casey into a loose standing position.

“Take this and get the hell out of my way,” Alex growled in a low, biting tone, dropping her voice and directing it solely at the stripper so Casey wouldn't be able to hear the obvious aggression dripping from it, “and if you ever service this woman again, you’ll live to fucking regret it.”

Casey’s eyes seemed to follow the monetary transaction, and then fix on Alex’s face with a degree of bewildered interest.

“...Alex?” Casey asked finally, and it was genuinely a question. Casey couldn't recognize her very well, given her brain's addled state, and with a soft sigh Alex nodded, wrapping one arm around the woman’s waist.

“Yes, Casey, it's me. Come on, I’m taking you to mine, okay?”

Casey seemed to have no argument, not even sparing a glance at the woman who she had been paying to entertain her, allowing Alex to support her fumbled movements as Alex aided her on the way out.

Deep, darkened green eyes were boring holes in the side of Alex’s face as Casey examined her with an unexplainable intensity, and with a small huff Alex realized with Casey’s heels the other woman was now noticeably taller than her, despite both of them being approximately the same above-average height. It didn't help her lead Casey out, rather with every stumble the other woman had to bend down slightly to find Alex’s support, which wouldn't be as much the case if Casey was currently shorter, or at least on par with Alex's height.

Regardless, eventually the two did manage to make their way out- but not without a few women calling out in a forlorn or faux enthusiastic voice for ‘puppydog’ to turn and stay a while longer. Alex's jaw clenched and she focused on grinding her teeth together so she wouldn't deck one of them. She had no clue where her sudden protectiveness over Casey was really coming from. Despite craving the satisfaction of forcing some kind of repercussion for the nickname a sober version of Casey would've been enraged by, she knew she couldn't act on it.

Alex helped Casey crawl into the backseat of the car, feeling the absence of the auburn woman’s feverish skin on her side the second she let her go. After paying the meter for parking, Alex climbed into the driver’s seat, turning to ensure Casey had buckled, which she hadn't. Alex had to awkwardly reach across the entire car, kneeling on her seat and pushing her body through the gap between the two front seats, to help Casey force the buckle closed.

“I brought water and some- some protein bars.” Alex said in a hushed tone, awkward and with little clue on what to say now that she had effectively extradited Casey from the unfavorable situation. Casey hadn't moved to express or say anything, not since questioning Alex’s identity while still within the confines on the stripper’s thighs.

A woman whose sharp features and eyes that reminded Alex eerily of a hawk, who entertained a strange juxtaposition between almost intimidatingly gorgeous and refined features, and the way she had been grovelling for attention and affection, was now sitting quietly and unarguingly in the backseat of Alex’s car as the blonde began the drive back to her home.

Although Alex remained aware that eyes were still studying her from an angle of the rear view mirror, nothing was said or exchanged, not other than Alex briefly urging Casey to drink or eat something during a pause at a red light. Casey held one hand briefly over her stomach, which seemed to signal ‘nauseous’- Alex wasn't at all surprised, she too felt sick to her stomach, and she hadn't consumed anything. After a pleading glance exchanged through the mirror, Casey begrudgingly took several small sips of water, which Alex chose to be content with. Forcing Casey to eat wouldn't be worth it if the end resulted only with Alex cleaning vomit from her car.

“You're beautiful,” Casey said faintly from the backseat, and with a furrowed brow yet a bemused smile Alex glanced back at her. She was leaning contently against the back, head lolled to the side slightly, but she seemed conscious and aware enough to settle a bit of Cabot’s nerves.

“I could say the same for you,” she responded easily, and Casey’s lips curved up in a small smile.

Alex wished briefly she had thought enough to bring a blanket, or something for Casey to conceal herself with, because it felt awkward for her to be dressed so modestly with Novak in such scandalous attire in her backseat. Casey didn't seem to register the disparity, which made Alex feel worse about it.

The dialogue, if one could even call it that, stilled after that, although Casey’s obviously delirious smile did not drop for the rest of the car drive.

When Alex opened the door, Casey was able to get out and stand unassisted, which Alex was relieved by. Casey stepped closer, eyes searching Alex’s face, and the blonde realized faintly Casey was waiting for her to guide her again, to lead her, to place her arm around her waist like she had when tugging her out of the club. Although it felt awkward, Alex obliged.

The garage beneath the complex had an elevator that went straight into Alex’s penthouse with a special key, so thankfully they didn't have to make it very far. As soon as the elevator doors opened and Alex led the auburn woman out, into the safety of her apartment, she felt tension ease from her shoulders.

That feeling of relief was quickly overshadowed when Casey turned, gently pushing against Alex's body, until the blonde woman was pressed up against the wall with Casey’s currently-taller-due-to-heels frame above her. Blue eyes searched dark green ones with concern and confusion, but Casey seemed not to register the puzzlement.

Both of Casey’s hands raised to effectively trap Alex’s head between them, and Casey leaned forward, pressing her forearms entirely against the wall as she bent, looking up at Alex with wide, puppydog eyes, and completely blown pupils.

“How do you want me?” Casey asked simply, her voice low and alluring, the sound of the rasp of her tone sending a sudden chill down Alex’s spine.

“What?”

Alex’s voice came out like a startled gasp, and she pushed herself against the wall, swallowing in an effort to cover the sudden jolt of discomfort. What did Casey think Alex wanted from her, exactly?

“You paid for something,” Casey murmured, leaning forward until her pink lips were an inch or so away from Alex’s own, auburn hair swaying in an undeniably tantalizing way as she tilted her head curiously. “You were trying to pay for me, weren't you?”

“Casey, I-” Alex mumbled, feeling the rush of confusion and surprise turn into a harsh flush that covered her face, but Casey hushed her before she could explain the misunderstanding.

“I’m not an escort,” Casey breathed softly, “but you won't be the first to mistake me for one. And I can play the role.”

Alex opened her mouth to protest, wriggling just slightly to try to slip to the side so she could back away, but she remained trapped between Casey’s lithe figure and the wall. Her heart pounded uncomfortably quickly in her chest, and she could feel her face heating up against her will.

“Shh, words can wait until I’ve properly satiated you,” Casey rasped, moving her head to the side of Alex’s face, dropping her voice to a low murmur in her ear. Warm breath fanned across the small strip of skin on Alex’s neck just above the turtleneck feature of her shirt as Casey continued, “unless the words are, ‘on your knees’, or something else similarly appropriate.”

“Casey,” Alex repeated, trying not to physically push the woman away, because she didn't want her behavior to come off as either genuinely interested which she currently wasn't, or harshly rejecting. She focused on not squirming as much as she felt as though she wanted too, mind whirling as she tried to properly deduce what to say to calm the quickly accelerating situation, but nothing came quickly enough.

“I’ll do anything,” Casey promised in a whisper, her voice taking on a slightly higher pitch that brought a pang of pity again to Alex’s heart, “you won't regret me, I promise. I’ll be worth your effort.”

Her eyes were flicking back and forth over Alex’s face, intently studying, trying to figure out what Alex wanted from her. Casey seemed to realize Alex wasn't responding to her straightforward advancement, and seemed to think that that meant she had somehow done something wrong, played the situation incorrectly. Made Alex lose interest in her, somehow. Alex’s breath caught, and her brow furrowed, still wracking the confines of her mind and cursing them for freezing her, for not allowing her some eloquent phrase to comfort her.

“I can be what you wanted,” Casey said, her voice taking on a shaky, pitiful note of desperation when all she was faced with was Alex’s lack of reaction, “I’ll be- I’ll be worth it. Let me prove I’m worth it?”

Casey moved, one hand finding Alex’s, intertwining fingers briefly to bring Alex’s slim fingers to her own hip, while the other hand reached behind her to unfasten the halter formation that kept Casey’s dress together.

With a rustle of fabric, black polyester fell apart.

That, finally, broke Alex out of the shock-induced freeze, and the blonde woman let out a small strangled sound, squeezing her eyes shut and forcing her head to the side before her eyes could catch sight of anything she’d hate herself for perceiving.

“Casey, pause.” Alex spit the words out quickly, and despite Casey’s obvious inebriation the auburn-haired woman stilled her movements immediately, dropping Alex’s hand and letting it draw itself away.

Alex kept her eyes tightly shut as she pulled her turtleneck off in a swift movement, holding it out expectantly and letting out a small approving breath when she felt the weight of it leave her palms. A second rustle of fabric, this time a more hushed, gentle sound of expensive fiber, was perceived, and Alex opened her eyes to see an anxious looking Casey staring at her somberly.

Casey’s eyes didn't stray from Alex’s face in the slightest, which soothed the small part of Alex’s brain that told her standing before the intoxicated woman in a bra wasn't the best idea, but it seemed Casey genuinely had no intent other than a desperation to please Alex, or to play along with what she assumed Alex’s desire was. The cold air of her penthouse caused goosebumps to prickle along Alex’s arms, but she cared more than Casey was finally dressed in something modest- it made her feel less guilty to look at her like this.

“I don't understand,” Casey offered softly, her voice quiet, her hair tousled from pulling the turtleneck over it. She fumbled with her hands now that she wasn't using them provocatively, tugging on the ends of the sleeves, “I- I thought you wanted-?”

“No,” Alex said hoarsely, crossing her arms over her exposed stomach, “No, Casey, I’m not trying to have sex with you.”

Casey’s eyebrows tilted, a small anxious crease appearing between them, as the corners of her eyes similarly crumbled with the rejection. “Do you not … - am I not…?”

Satisfactory, Alex’s mind tried to fill in the word Casey wasn't saying, because it looked like if Casey said it she might burst into tears. Worth it, she might be trying to say. Alex wasn't entirely sure but whatever it was she wouldn't let Casey keep demeaning her value to either financial means or the utility of her body.

“That's not what this is about, sweetheart.” Alex soothed gently, extending her hands slightly to reassure Casey she wasn't rejecting her entirely, she wasn't pushing her away, she wasn't disgusted. Casey inched forward almost shyly, and Alex took her in her arms without hesitation.

The press of the turtleneck against Alex’s bare skin, this time the outside of it, was comforting to Alex. She hoped the feeling of the inside of it, the warmth that Alex had previously fostered, was comforting to Casey.

“I’m sorry,” Casey mumbled against Alex’s skin, burying her face in the exposed curve of Alex’s neck, and Alex hummed a rejection to the unnecessary apology.

“I don't want you to apologize, honey,” Alex murmured, “It's okay, I could've been more clear earlier. Stabler sent me, he wanted me to make sure you were okay.”

“Elliot?” Casey’s voice cracked, and suddenly she looked very small, and very weak, despite still being taller and less physically vulnerable than Alex was.

“Yes,” Alex hummed, letting her hands drift from Casey’s shoulders to rub what she hoped would be comforting circles on Casey's back. “He wanted to make sure you were okay,” she repeated softly, “Are you?”

Casey didn't respond, but her shoulders started shaking and with a resigned sigh Alex realized she had begun crying. The intoxication and the overwhelm of emotions were simply too much for the battered woman to handle.

Droplets of warm liquid began to fall on the skin of Alex’s shoulder and she closed her eyes, humming a small note of sympathy, unsure what else she could do to comfort the redhead.

“I thought you wanted me,” Casey sobbed, body wracked with a sudden bout of shivers that left Alex gripping her tight, worried she’d fall without the support. “I thought, I thought-”

“It's- I don't mean to say I- it's, it's not that I don't think you're attractive, Casey,” Alex tried to plead, “There’s nothing wrong with you, I- I don't know, but I do know it would be beyond wrong for me to let you do anything with me right now. You’re not in a position to consent like this.”

Casey could only cry harder, tears of anguish, grief and shame wetting the space between her face and Alex’s skin as Alex tried to console her.

Alex grimaced with sympathy, closing her eyes and letting the auburn woman nestle as closely as she could, desperate for some kind of support, some kind of reassurance.

“I want it,” Casey begged, her tone so desperate Alex winced and had to force herself not to flinch away, “I need you, I want to be- I want, please, I thought you wanted me. I wanted you to want me. Just- can you?”

It was almost impossible for Alex to attribute this behavior with the snarky, stoic yet fiercely protective, loyal woman who had saved her in court. Casey’s skin was fevered and tinted with an obvious lack of care, her nose red and her eyes puffy, her hair having lost some of its shine. Her vocalizations and composure had altered drastically, from sly and composed to rambled, desperate and scratchy, and her attitude had transformed completely.

She seemed like a shell of her previous self, of the person who had so patiently comforted Alex’s pre-trial nerves. Of the woman who had led her out, who had looked into her eyes, and who Alex had almost kissed while standing at the doorway of the DA’s office- almost. Doomed by circumstance. She wouldn't kiss her own attorney. But she had wanted to.

And Alex felt unbelievably guilty, because when Casey had been so close to her face seconds ago, with a look so sultry in her eyes, she had wanted to again. Of course she wouldn't have, she would never ever kiss someone under circumstances like these, but it was still making her feel desperate and horrible that she had even for a fraction of a second considered becoming one of the many people who had exploited Casey’s emotional, wrecked state.

“Casey,” Alex breathed quietly, and Casey hushed herself momentarily, holding her breath so she wouldn't keep sobbing so she could hear what the blonde was trying to say.

“Casey, let me get you in bed, and let me help you get it all together, and next week if you’re sober and if you're feeling alright, then ... we can talk about it then, okay? Because I- I… not like this.”

The other woman sniffed, straightening to rub the evidence of her crying fit away and leaving trails of mascara across her pale skin, but nodded quietly.

“On the forehead, though?” She asked, though, in a low croaked voice, and with a mixture of pity and a small hint of amusement Alex smiled sadly and obliged, cradling her face gently with both hands and pressing her lips to the space Casey had requested.

Alex realized she might be the first person in days who had offered Casey any sort of attention she wasn't using her wallet or her body to pay for.

“You don't need to give people incentive to hold you.” Alex murmured quietly, grimacing at the though and then kissing her cheek too for good measure, “I would've, had I known.”

The look in Casey’s eyes told Alex very clearly that Casey did not believe her, but she didn't attempt to verbally oppose, instead just staring at her blankly, hopelessly.

They stood there, still and desperate, for a long moment.

Alex swallowed anxiously at the sound of a low whine in Casey’s throat, and the auburn-haired woman’s hands found her waist, thumbs on the crest of her hips. Casey’s lips parted, eyes flickering from Alex’s eyes to her lips and back up, one last desperate attempt to seduce Alex. A last attempt to reassure herself that she was wanted, that she was worthy of affection. Alex’s heart broke in her chest.

“Please,” Casey’s voice was so broken it came out like a whimper, “Alex?”

“You know better, Casey.” Alex breathed, watching sadly as Casey’s eyes welled up with tears for a second time.

It was surprising to Alex to find how gorgeous Casey was, even in such a visibly wrecked state. Her eyes were blown with substance abuse but a shade of green and rimmed with blue like collector’s prized sea glass, her bottom lip plumped and textured from her chewing on it yet obviously soft and alluring, her eyebrows shaped so elegantly. Her hands were warm and gentle on Alex’s exposed skin, slim long fingers shivering just barely, her arms thin yet simultaneously muscular, lean with the effort of athleticism. She was beautiful, and everything Alex wanted, but just- just not right now, not like this.

Not even when Casey’s melodious, deep voice seemed so needy, so heady, in a way that stirred Alex’s abdomen in a way that disgusted herself.

Alex enveloped the woman’s body in her arms before Casey had the opportunity to pull away, holding her against her with deep-set sympathy, cupping the base of her head and pressing it against the side of her face so Casey wouldn't be able to see the look in her blue eyes.

“Let me get you to bed, sweetheart.” Alex repeated quietly, “You must be exhausted.”

Casey sounded utterly defeated when she muttered a quiet, “Yeah… okay.”

Alex wondered if she had sounded the same the first time someone had offered her something, the first time someone had approached her in a bar. She didn't let that thought linger for long, though, because she’d either kill someone or throw up if she continued to think about it.

Casey stood still as Alex crouched to undo the zipper on the side of her high heeled boots, stepping out of them delicately, and the two left them and the crumpled small heap of fabric which was Casey’s dress on the floor as Alex prioritized getting the other woman under a blanket.

She stumbled as she walked, needing to readapt to balance without the heels she had grown accustomed to moving in, and Alex stayed by her side, hand on her back to support her as she guided her towards the bedroom. Casey sat down on the bed, looking up at Alex who was still standing over her with wet lashes and puppy-like eyes.

Her pale legs, now exposed entirely without the boots, were so long, toned and exquisite. Alex felt ridiculously guilty for admiring the sight of Casey propped on her mattress.

Alex ran her tongue along her dry lips, averting her eyes as if the doorway had something that held her interest more than the half-naked woman on her bed.

Biting back the nausea the guilt brought her, Alex rested a hand gently on the side of Casey’s face, a thumb brushing over her cheek, because the woman seemed so appreciative of physical affection. As if to affirm that notion, Casey leaned into the touch.

“Kiss my forehead again,” Casey requested, and again Alex obliged, bending forward to press her lips against the pale skin, her blonde hair brushing across Casey’s face when she moved.

“Can I bring you something? Would you want anything?” Alex murmured, her tone hushed, “Nightclothes? Water? Something to eat, maybe?”

“I want you,” Casey said drowsily, reaching up with her arms to encircle Alex's waist, pressing her chin and neck against Alex’s exposed stomach as she looked up at her.

“We already concluded that notion, Casey.” The blonde chided as gently as she could, running her thumbs along the side of Casey’s face, the pads of her fingers submerging in auburn locks to create patterns on the woman’s scalp. She was rewarded for the ministrations with a contented sound from Casey’s throat, her eyelids fluttering.

“Not sex,” Casey clarified in a whisper, “But hold me.”

After a pause, in which blue eyes studied green intently, Alex sighed softly. “Let me get changed, and let me get you some makeup remover, and water.”

Casey nodded and relented, lithe arms slipping away from Alex’s middle, and the blonde briefly exited the bedroom to fetch a glass of water, a small stack of wipes to erase the evidence of tear-streaked mascara from Casey’s cheeks, and to swap her jeans out for a college sweatshirt and pajama bottoms. She returned, bringing alongside the aforementioned items a bundle of nightclothes for Casey to change into.

She looked away awkwardly as Casey slid the sleep shorts she had brought up the expanse of her legs, but in a shorter time than she expected she felt hands tugging gently at her sweatshirt. Alex turned back to see Casey still in the turtleneck she had thrust upon her, although her face was now clean and unmarred by cosmetics.

“I want to sleep in this, if that's okay,” Casey murmured, tugging again on Alex’s hem, and the blonde tilted her shoulders slightly to indicate her indifference.

Casey wanted Alex to engage with her. Casey wanted Alex to create direction, give her something to respond too, something that would allow her to avoid the feeling of responsibility, of consciousness. She wanted Alex to take away the shame and the guilt, but Alex knew she couldn't do so. She didn't know what to do.

So she just stood there, quietly, observing the details of Casey's face while she waited for something that wasn't coming.

Casey took Alex's lack of motion as a signal of uninterest, her shrug as complete indifference, not just to the notion that Casey would sleep in her sweater but to Casey as a whole.

Her hands curled into balls around the fabric of Alex's sweatshirt as she gazed up at her, willing her to speak, which Alex didn't know how to.

“What do you want me to do, Casey?”

Her voice came out a bit flatter than she intended, and Casey’s forlorn exhale told Alex that tone wasn't what the redhead had wanted, but Casey didn't seem deterred enough to send Alex away. Even if she thought it was being fabricated, she wanted the comfort she thought she could find in Alex's form.

Casey paused, blinking once and then twice as a sort of resignation settled over her face, before letting go of Alex’s clothing to motion to the other side of the mattress. Alex agreeingly moved over and laid down on her side, still facing Casey, who wriggled until she was curled beside her, head near the flat of Alex’s chest.

“Put one hand near my head, and the other on my shoulder.” Casey continued to direct in a hushed, numb tone, which Alex again immediately obliged too. Casey nestled closer, then closer still, before huffing a deep, forced breath. A small wave of anguish washed over Casey's expression, but was quickly replaced as her features went lax, and exhaustion overwhelmed her body.

Casey was asleep almost immediately.

She must've been beyond drained, Alex thought to herself, sympathy still very evident in her eyes even with no conscious being there to witness it, although Casey hadn't seemed to realize her emotions even when she had been studying her.

Casey had misunderstood her initially, thinking Alex was bringing her back for some form of demented intercourse, and then further misunderstood her brief words now as a lack of enthusiasm, which she supposed in some way it was. It hurt Alex, the realization that Casey had fallen asleep thinking Alex didn't actually want to hold her and was only doing so through direction. She hoped she could fix it when she awoke.

She hoped Casey would remember, but then again, maybe it would be better- simpler, perhaps, if she didn't.

She realized she had completely forgotten to update Stabler at all, and she’d definitely be receiving an earful about that the next time he saw her, but she couldn't bring herself to move away from Casey’s bundled figure, nor tear her eyes away from the steady rise and fall of the woman’s side as she breathed. Content, finally, and not in any sort of danger. Not overwhelmed, not anything numb, just asleep in Alex’s bed where the blonde could take care of her, at least physically. She could shield her from the dangers her desperation had led her too, at the very least.

Alex paused, curling her fingers gently through locks of reddish blonde hair almost thoughtfully, before leaning in to press a final lingering kiss on Casey’s forehead.

“I’m sorry, Casey.” Alex breathed quietly, “I did want you.”

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