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serenasoutherlyns · 3 years

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Not a Summer Crush Part Two

a/n: enjoy part two I hope! any feedback will make me fall in love with you 12 times. this one features much hijinks!!

Part Two

Immediately after you hopped on your bike, you began to regret your most recent conversation, your tendency towards flights of spontaneity. It hit you that you had not only turned down drinks with Cabot and Novak's important friends, you had invited them to watch you get your boogie on with all of your airhead dance friends at a somewhat raggedy club in Brooklyn.

What. Had. You. Done.

With any luck, Alex would not mention anything to Casey and the two of them would go to whatever wine bar the other senior ADAs and fancy defense attorneys hung out at with Gillian Hardwicke and whoever else, tell them how weird you were being, and never look you in the eyes again. You tumbled into your apartment, raining papers, carabiners, chapsticks, and hair ties as you hung up your bag and helmet. You made especially sure to hang up the key to your bike lock because four times in the last month had seen you frantically biking back to your apartment for it and countless more had featured you searching through the jungle of tiny bowls full of coins and wires and keychains before you left. When you made it into your living room, two little hands wrapped around your leg, tripping you. Your fall was cushioned by your fluffy area rug, but you were startled enough to yell "fuck."

Leaving no time to spare, you heard a high-pitched voice behind you yell, "Auntie, that's a bad word!" You got up and scooped the little home invader into your arms.

"Léa," you said, "how did you get into my apartment?" The six-year-old giggled as you tickled her.

"I left Mr. Cuddles on your couch. Papa gave me the key."

"Well, did you find Mr. Cuddles?" You asked, and Léa held the teddy bear out for you.

"Yeah, I did, but then I heard you and I got so happy because Auntie is home!" You melted at that, grateful to have the girls in your life, without having children of your own.

"OK, sweet girl. Thank you for the welcome. Why don't we go surprise Papa?" You picked up the laughing kid and slung her over your shoulder, walking down the stairs to your best friend's apartment.

"Ash," you said as you opened the door. "I think I found an alien in my apartment. I don't know what it is but it's very silly." Léa protested, saying she was a girl and not an alien. You plopped the pile of giggles on the couch and greeted Ashley with a quick kiss on the cheek.

"Are we still going out tonight? The babysitter's still coming?" Ashley was juggling the two-year-old and a pot of spaghetti at once, trying to get the girls fed so he could have a rare fun night out with you and the others.

"Yep, Emma is on her way right now. And we," he said as he took your hand, "are going to dance all night long." He turned you around in the kitchen, causing Yasmin to coo in his arms. "And you, my Meena-Beena, are going to be the best little dance prodigy in the world, aren't you?"

You took her from his arms and spun her around again, saying, "If I have anything to do with it, though, you're still going to college."

"Natch," Ashley agreed with you. The doorbell rang and Ophélie, the 12-year-old, raced to let the high school girl Ashley had hired to watch them in. Ashley explained where everything was to be found, then the two of you practically flew out of the door. You changed into more appropriate clothing at your place, then caught the subway. As you traveled, you broke the news to your best friend.

"Hey. So. I may have invited a couple newbies," you told him.

"Shouldn't be an issue, it's open night and there are going to be like, 20 teachers there."

"Right. Um. Yes. But."

"What, do you have a crush or something?" You hit him.

"No. But they are my supervisors."

"Both of them?" you nodded. "Well, it's a good way for them to get to know you I guess?" You laughed nervously.

"Hopefully, they don't even come," you said wishfully. Ashley changed the topic and the two of you rode the rest of the way without discussing Casey and Alex-- but they stayed in the back of your mind.

---

Casey walked into the darkened room first, holding Alex's pinky with her own, pulling her in behind. Casey had been reluctant at first, but now that the decision was made, she wasn't going to be bashful about the experience. Besides, she had danced before, unlike her wife. Alex's upbringing had been so very proper and protestant, about the only dancing she'd ever experienced was the waltz that she and her fellow wealthy little kids had been taught in cotillion, then told never to do again outside of a ballroom. Casey, on the other hand, had been raised around all types, and had gone to her fair share of swing nights as a kid. Still, nothing like the way everyone was moving in the little club. The band was on a small stage towards the back of the space, and the room was filled bursting with beautiful women wearing flowing sequined dresses and handsome men in crisp button-downs.

Standing just inside the doorway, Alex caught your form first. You were wearing your favorite dance outfit, a simple red crop top with a silver circle skirt. Your hair was secured in a casual bun. Your tall (and, curiously, male) partner's hand sat firmly pressed between your top and your skirt. She watched, transfixed (like many others there tonight, you were often the center of attention), as he lifted and spun you around, quickly and masterfully. What was most beautiful, though, was the unreserved grin that seemed stuck in its place, except when you lifted your head back and laughed after your partner whispered something in your ear. Alex and Casey made their way over to the bar and sat down with two mojitos (neither of their usual drinks, but half the people at the bar had them. It seemed fitting), and watched you whirl around with ease and clear pleasure. Casey thought she'd never seen you look so beautiful than right then, in your element, moving as naturally as anything.

"So," Casey remarked to her wife, "Either Ashley is a man or Haley's dancing with another partner."

"Or I heard it wrong," Alex offered.

"She's stunning, isn't she?" Casey said, a dreamy, captivated tone in her voice. Alex replied with a sigh and a hum.

The two women didn't get all too long to discuss you, though, before you saw them and came bouncing (Rita Calhoun doesn’t lie) to the bar, Ashley following close behind you.

"You two made it! Alex, Casey, meet my partner, Ashley Laurent. Ash, this is Casey Cabot Novak and Alexandra Novak Cabot, my esteemed supervisors from the DA's office." Alex reached out for a handshake, but Ashley made a "tsk" noise and pulled her in for two kisses on the cheek.

"We kiss on the cheek," he said, the smallest hint of his accent (French, Alex thought) showing through, then did the same for Casey. The way Casey comfortably returned it was adorable to you, as was how Alex tried her best despite her stiffness. You saw Casey rub her thumb along the back of Alex's hand in a calming motion, and without meaning to, you traced your left thumb over your right hand. "I've heard so much about you both," Ashley continued.

"All good things," you interjected with urgency, knowing Ashley's talent for embarrassing you in front of important people.

"Pleased to hear it," Casey said. You could tell that Alex was getting nervous, she had the same look on her face as she did before a difficult case. You felt a pang of guilt for having invited them, worried that you'd maybe pressured them into doing something they didn't want to do, or worse, that they'd come out of pity.

Ashley could tell you were overthinking and wanted to make it either worse (for his entertainment) or better (for your benefit). He took Casey's hand and told her, "You know, my partner here is one of the best dancers in the state. I'm sure she'd love to show you some of the ropes."

"Oh, Ash," you said, then turned to Casey, "Only if you want to. And he exaggerates my talents."

Alex spoke up, then, to say, "Not if what we saw earlier was any indication." You couldn't help but scrunch up your eyes and nose, flattered and flustered and a little embarrassed.

"I'd be happy to dance, Caroline, but I don't want to steal your partner, Ashley," said Casey.

"Nonsense," Ashley said, "besides, I need a break, the kids exhausted me today. I'll stay, keep this one company." You couldn't argue with him any longer, and as the band started up the next song, you took Casey's hand and led her onto the outer corner of the floor.

Your heart sped up when you noticed Casey's subtle signs of nervousness. "No need to worry, half the people in here have no idea what they're doing," you said. You placed your hand around her waist and put hers on your shoulder, keeping a friendly distance between the two of you. "The trick is pretending like you're confident, and people will think you are." Casey noticed the way your voice went up as you said it, like you knew how she was feeling quite well. "And I usually follow, not lead. So, I'm out of my comfort zone too."

You had no need to say the last thing, Casey thought, as you showed her the basic steps. "It's also, really, quite simple. When I step forward, you step back." She followed your lead. "Good! Yeah, that's exactly right," you told her. "I wouldn't even believe you were a beginner," you flattered her. It was a little choppy, but that didn't matter. As you felt her get into the groove of the movement, you let go of her waist and spun her under your other arm. She gasped, quietly.

"Now, the real key here is remembering to move your hips," you said, when you took her waist back in your arms. "You gotta let them guide you. You head should barely move up or down."

"I think you lost me there," Casey said.

"Here, feel," you replied, moving her free hand to your own hips. "Notice how I let them swing every time I move my feet?"

That seemed to work (though you saw a quick moment of an emotion you couldn't quite place wash over Casey), and she was soon dancing with relative ease for a newcomer. Of course, she was in good hands with you.

Alex watched the two of you as you led Casey along the floor. From work, Alex knew you were dedicated and thoughtful, but she'd always thought of you as shy and high-strung, despite your unguarded countenance. You had no problems in court, but outside of it, you would trip over your words, avert your glance at praise; you wore your insecurities on your sleeve. You were always vulnerable, too. More than once, she'd seen you get teary in your office or when speaking with a victim. You were never the first person to leave, and you took some of the most detailed (yet nearly illegible) notes she'd ever seen.

There was nothing shy about the way you moved, the way you showed Casey how to move herself. She found herself paying attention to the way your hips rolled to the music, how you never let Casey know when she stepped wrong. It put her at ease, knowing her wife was in good hands. Everything about you looked natural, comfortable, free.

"How long have you two been together?" she asked Ashley, sipping her drink (it was very minty). Part of her didn't want to know, but that part was overpowered by her curiosity.

"Ten years this fall. We met her first year at Stanford, at a ballroom rehearsal. She was so cute," Ashley said.

"Oh yeah?"

Ashley nodded emphatically, a nostalgic look in his eyes. "She grew up in a really intense studio. She was so strict about rules, and like, crazy competitive. I used to wind her up on purpose, messing with my technique to get a rise out of her."

"I really wouldn't've taken her for a big rule follower."

"It doesn't come naturally to her, but she got good at it," Ashley said. Alex thought he sounded proud of you, like something about you had come a long way. "She's so much more chilled out than she was at 17. But aren't we all?"

Alex was amused at the idea that anybody would call you “chill” and attempted to imagine what you would've been like at that age with little success. Then again, you kept surprising her. The way you seemed as you danced was very different to how you were at work.

"Now, tell me, Alex. Does she really have to put in all those hours? You don't seem like the kind of supervisor who completely disregards work-life balance."

She thought of how to reply to that, not wanting to get you in any hot water at home. Ashley was right. Now that she was older, married, and caretaker of a sizeable plant collection, Alex took a healthier approach to hours. She also remembered being your age and working every second that she could, every moment that it took to be as thorough as she could.

"No, she doesn't have to work so much," Alex ventured. "In fact, I'm not even technically in charge of her schedule. Everyone can choose how much they work, as long as they're meeting targets. Which, unfortunately, means that we sometimes get people who just do the bare minimum."

"I'm sure Caroline isn't one of those people," Ashley said.

"She's not. She's one of the most productive and successful in the office. With the younger ones, for the first few years, they either take a while to get acclimated to the work and need babysitting, or they work too hard and need someone there to remind them to breathe." Alex felt bad that Ashley had clearly seen some element of stress in you that she failed to pick up on. She tucked that away as a conversation to have later. "I was like her. So was Casey. We both calmed down a little, but it took some quite, uh, extreme events."

Ashley, for all his disregard for the norms of conversation, knew when not to push people, and could see that Alex was feeling a bit on edge. "Would you like to dance the next one with me?" he asked, but Alex's eyes widened as she adamantly refused.

"I'm happy to just watch, you don't want to see me try."

Ashley wanted to push more, but he didn't want to risk alienating your boss, so he filled the space by telling embarrassing stories about you in college. When the band began winding down for their first break, the bartender played some pop over the stereo as the dancing crowd made their way to the bar to rehydrate. You and Casey returned to the booth where Ashley and Alex were sitting.

Casey slid in beside Alex, giving her a quick kiss. You sat next to Ashley, leaning your head on his shoulder. You let out a sigh.

"It's been a minute since you taught a newbie, Bug," Ashley said to you.

"Hardly," you replied, shooting him a glare for using your nickname from your college team. "Casey's very capable." You couldn't resist complimenting her, the way she smiled at you was too precious. "You were great," you directed at Casey.

"Please," she said, waving a hand at you and taking a sip of her mojito, watered down slightly by the melting ice. The four of you managed a very engaging conversation (thanks to your partner's valiant efforts) for the next couple minutes, until Ashley's phone rang.

"That is the babysitter. I'm so sorry ladies, I gotta take this." Everyone at the table took the opportunity to check their phones.

"Hi, Emma. Is everything ok? What happened? Is she running a fever? The thermometer is in the bathroom cabinet, can you check?"

You pushed your glass away and rubbed Ashley's shoulder, knowing how upset he got when any of his kids were in trouble.

"No, 99 isn't technically a fever, but you said she threw up? On Yasmin? Well, that's certainly gross. Um, no I wouldn't make you deal with that, here," his brow furrowed, and you started to pack up your things and his, surely you, too, would be going home to help. "Emma, I'm coming home now, should be 20 minutes or so. Léa's lovey is on her bed, if you get her that and wrap her up in a blanket on the couch, she should be OK. Ask Ophélie to entertain Yasmin and stay with Léa for me, can you? You're a gem, kid. OK, I'm leaving now, see you in 20." You started to get up with him, Casey and Alex looked concerned.

"Casey, Alex, I am so sorry to leave, but it was great to meet you two," he said.

"Léa was fine two hours ago when she attacked me," you said, addressing Ashley. "Alex, Casey, I'm sorry I got you two out here and have to leave so soon."

"What? No, you stay here, love." You opened your mouth to argue, but he insisted. "You have guests, and I'll be fine alone. Léa's always sick, and Phélie can watch the baby for me." You tried to help him again, but he wouldn't let you. You gave him a hug and kiss on the cheek goodbye, and he waved kindly to Alex and Casey as he hurriedly walked out the door.

When he was gone, you said to the other women, "I think he does too much. I work all the time. I wish I was there more to help." You played around with a straw wrapper as you talked (Alex noted, you seemed to fidget when you felt guilty).

"He seems like he's OK," Alex said, remembering how Ashley had expressed a similar sentiment to her earlier.

"Do you need to work fewer hours?" Casey asked, "because you're doing more than well."

You sighed as you thought of what to say. "Ashley's a wonderful father. No questions there. But I do think he puts too much pressure on himself."

"There's one thing you two have in common," said Alex. You only nodded in response, looking around the room. This was your happy place, and Casey and Alex somehow fit perfectly in it.

---

You all left the club right before the crowd started to die down. You were tired, and you knew Ashley would need a hug once the girls were in bed; plus, you could tell Alex and Casey were wearing out (you couldn't get Alex to dance, but you and Casey were on the floor together about half the night-- an old student of yours pulled you away from your table as the band began again, but you found Casey another partner for a few songs). As you rode home, your nerves were completely calmed. You realized that you had nothing to worry about in the first place and felt pleased at how the evening had turned out.

As soon as they reached their apartment, Alex took Casey's hands and kissed her, lightly at first, deepening when Casey parted her lips. Casey moaned, muffled, as Alex threaded her fingers through her hair and gave it the gentlest of tugs.

"We have a bed, Lex," Casey said, pulling away slightly.

Alex hummed against Casey's jaw. "You just look so beautiful tonight."

"I don't always?"

"Oh, you do. I just kind of can't believe how perfect you looked dancing."

"Well, you really have Caroline to thank for that one."

Alex made a sound that landed somewhere between a whimper and a squeak.

"Am I wrong?"

"No, you're right," Alex said. "That's the thing."

"I know," Casey replied. "Too bad she's apparently both straight and taken."

Alex giggled. "I mean, how would that conversation even go."

Casey nodded in agreement, turned on her heels, and pulled Alex down the hall, pushing her onto their very fluffy bed.

"'Hey, I know I’m 15 years older than you, married to Casey, and we’re kind of your bosses, but do you want to have a threesome?'" Alex continued in a low tone of voice, comically seductive, running her hands under the hem of Casey's tank top, pulling her closer with the fabric.

Casey laughed into her collarbone, welcoming Alex's lips as she kissed down her chest.

---

The next week passed quietly. It was a two-case week for you, one of which ended in a plea bargain, giving you more free time than usual. Alex kept bringing you coffee, and you kept running with Casey, though the weather was beginning to be too hot to do so outside (Casey, who was raised spending summers with her grandmother in Georgia, didn't believe there was such a thing; but your poor bay-area body was not suited to temperatures much above 75°). Wednesday evening around 8:00, when you were working late, tying up the details of a sexual harassment case at Manhattan Arts High School, you knocked on Alex's office door, hoping she was still in and would be willing to give you some feedback.

You heard a noise from inside, an "mm-hmm" that you took to mean "come in." You didn't wait to open the door, thanks, again, to your already limited inhibitions and the focus you had when you got deep into a case like this.

It was slightly too soon.

You quickly turned around and all but ran away, apologizing with what felt like every word in the dictionary. That was it, you decided, you had to quit. It was a good run, you thought, but you now had no choice but to leave, change your identity, and move to Spain.

Or something. Why wasn't the door locked?

You made it back to your office, just down the hall. As you fretfully packed papers into your backpack, you heard the click of high heels approaching you, caught a glimpse of blonde hair through the window. Part of you wanted to hide under your desk, but you stayed standing, hoping that if you didn't move, she wouldn't see you (not unlike a child attempting to avoid a bee sting).

Alex tapped her knuckles on the glass in the door, not waiting for you to respond before she opened it and came in. You started to apologize again, but Alex held her hand (her distractingly pretty hand) up at you.

"I am very sorry," she said, "that you saw that. In our defense, we were only kissing, and you usually keep to yourself after about 6."

You had trouble making words come out of your head.

"Anyway, Casey feels horrible. So, I came to apologize and see what you needed."

You continued petrified, wondering how Alex wasn't livid. You noticed a deep red mark on her neck--You noticed her neck.

"Oh God, did we freak you out that much, Haley? It's ok, you didn't do anything wrong. We were the ones making out at work," she said, trying and failing to resist a smirk.

At that, you were able to break out of your overwhelmed silence.

"Uhm," you began, almost whispering. "It's the Manhattan Arts case."

Alex nodded. "That one's tough. That's why I gave it to you."

You nodded, suppressing a squeak.

"It is. I don't know what to do because the complainant is also a co-conspirator with the perpetrator in another case."

"Right. Why don't you come to my office, and we'll all look over it together?" Alex saw your expression fill with fear again, the same kitten-ish look she'd come to know and love. It was painfully cute. "You don't have to. But we do have leftover pad Thai." That was enough to convince you, though you were still taken aback and shaken up.

You went to Ashley's apartment first when you went home that night. He and Ramin (home from his business trip) were cuddled up together on the couch watching The Bachelor, the girls were long asleep. You greeted the men, slipped your shoes off, and padded into the living room, sliding onto the couch beside them. Ramin turned down the TV and slipped his free arm around your shoulders. Ten years of friendship between you and Ashley had made you more than comfortable with his husband, though you'd only known Ramin for four. You three didn't need words anymore, they could both tell when you were having a hard time. You were glad Ramin hadn't seen everything Ashley had-- while you weren't very skittish about sharing your personal life with the people close to you, you and Ashley had been there for one another's darkest moments.

Ramin patted your head, mussing your frizzy hair. "Wanna talk about it?" Ashley asked you, but you shook your head.

"Tea," you said.

"Fair enough," Ramin replied, amused, rising to put the kettle on. Ashley scooted over to give you a hug.

You were in a far better mood after a few pots of chamomile and a few episodes of The Bachelor when you went to bed that night (well, Thursday morning). You were still confused, though. Something in your core warmed up every time you closed your eyes, the image of Casey sitting in Alex's lap, her hair messy, their lips pressed against one another, was stuck in your head. You were still mortified, that was all.

---

Alex made good on her promise of drinks that Saturday. Things had smoothed over since Wednesday; she'd left a cookie and a note beside your coffee on Thursday morning that read: Consider this biscotti your olive branch, and, well, who could stay uncomfortable after that. As they left their apartment, Alex sent a text to their friends reminding them that they had a guest that night.

Alex: Everyone, Haley's coming out with us tonight.

Casey: That means best behavior. No being cruel.

Sophie: ...Rita.

Sophie: We were all thinking it.

Serena: ^

Rita: I'm a very sweet person!

Pippa: You made Gillian cry last week.

Rita: That sounds like a her problem.

Gillian: It kind of was.

Pippa: 💖

Casey: Just, be nice to her. Please?

Serena: We will!

Rita: Fine.

Satisfied, they walked the short distance to their regular bar. As they approached, they saw you standing outside, looking up the other direction of the sidewalk and fidgeting with your keys. Casey noticed what you were wearing first, a black A-line wrap dress that showed off your shoulders. Alex, on the other hand, noticed you were wearing your hair in its natural loopy curls when you usually straightened it.

The way the setting sunlight hit your face as you turned your head in their direction caused Alex's breath to hitch in her throat. The way you idly brushed your fingers along your neck as you tucked a curl behind your ear made Casey's mouth go dry. They shared a quick glance, their eyes talking for them, saying: we're in deep, aren't we?

The second you saw them coming towards you, you grinned wide and waved both hands, bouncing on your toes.

"Rita was right," Casey whispered to Alex, still out of earshot of you, "she's exactly like a bunny."

Alex squeezed Casey's hand tightly. You greeted them excitedly, resisting the urge to hug them both (where did that come from?) by holding your hands behind your back after you waved. They returned your greetings gracefully and led the way into their haunt, Casey, then Alex, then you.

Everyone else was already there, you were sure they must've gotten there before you. The bar wasn't quite what you expected; it had much more of a homey vibe than you thought it would. A mostly 30-something, professional-looking, crowd populated the place's tables, drinking mostly wine and whisky, talking over candlelit tables. You felt more at ease, now that you knew what you were getting into.

You were even more at ease when you realized that sat around the table you were approaching were all familiar faces. Honestly, if you had to pick which defense attorneys to spend an evening with, you could do much worse than Rita Calhoun and Sophie Devere. You knew Gillian would be there, and you were pleased to see Serena Southerlyn and Pippa Cox as well (you always admired the field of legal advocacy, you might've gone into it if the money wasn't even worse than prosecution. Pippa and Serena both clearly came from some amount of wealth-- you most certainly did not, and student loans called).

Pleasant hugs and hellos were shared around the table. Casey introduced you.

"Gillian, of course, you know ADA Haley, but for you others... Pippa, Serena, Rita, Sophie, this is Caroline Haley." Gillian raised her glass to you; Pippa gave a warm smile and a wave. Serena pulled out a chair for you, and you took it.

"Lovely to meet you, officially," said Sophie.

"We could use someone interesting," Rita added.

You had expected to feel anxious. You always did in social situations, and you had the Zoloft in your cabinet to prove it. And you did feel the familiar buzzing of worry in the back of your head. But something about the way Casey and Alex looked at one another and then at you made you feel safer than usual. It was a cozy, pleasant feeling.

Wait. Is that? Was it? No. Certainly not. Unless?

You let their conversations go on without chiming in much. Like you usually did when you met new people, you just watched and sipped your drink (gin and soda, your go-to. Serena had insisted on buying you a drink, Rita teased you for going with something so cliché but stopped after one jab. You'd seen Pippa give her a warning glare, thought you'd seen her squeeze her thigh as well, though that could just be your somewhat wonky eyesight). Noticing your anxiety, Alex gave you a friendly pat on the shoulder that made your stomach flip.

Eventually, at a lull in the talking, Alex turned her attention to you: "What's Ashley doing tonight, Caroline?"

Your expression lit up; you were always excited to brag about your best friend. "He's at the studio; he runs rehearsal on Saturday nights. His company is one of the best in the city." You could've said more, but you didn't want to ramble like you tended to when you were nervous.

"Oh. When do you teach? You're always at the office late." Alex asked.

You sighed. "I wish I had far more time than I do. I teach mostly workshops right now, one or two weekends a month." You saw everyone around the table react with some surprise.

"And you two didn't scare away the babysitter last week?" Casey added.

You chuckled in response. "I hope we didn't. The girls are usually very well-behaved, but poor Léa's always getting sick."

"How old are they, Caroline?" Pippa asked.

The only thing you loved more than bragging about Ashley was bragging about your nieces.

"Ophélie is 12, Léa is 6, and Yasmin is 2. I'm biased, but they're the brightest children on the planet."

The way you sounded when you spoke about the girls spun Casey's head. Alex had never wanted kids, and Casey had always been on the fence. But your clear pride had her feeling very drawn to you in that moment.

"Forgive me for saying," Sophie began, "But aren't you a little young to have a 12-year-old?"

"Or a 6-year-old, really," Gillian added. Alex wanted to say something, remind her well-meaning friends that, sometimes, people didn't want to discuss every detail of their personal lives with them, but she held back, knowing how composed you could be when you wanted. You paled, knowing where this conversation was headed.

"Oh, um," you said, "They aren't my kids, technically. Ophélie is Ashley's youngest sister, and Léa is Ramin's from his first marriage. Yasmin is Ashley and Ramin's only child together, but they have full custody of all three. But I've been in their lives since Ophélie was 4." You saw the confusion build on Casey's face, her brow furrowing like how it did when she was focused in on her notes.

"Who's Ramin?" She asked you.

"Ashley's husband?" You replied, "he didn't mention him to you? He usually can't wait to talk about him."

The subtle confusion turned to true befuddlement on the part of Alex and Casey, both.

"He didn't mention a husband," Alex said. "I actually assumed you two were together?" Casey nodded.The other attorneys watched with varying degrees of curiosity and chaotic joy. You swore you saw Rita cover a smile with her napkin.

You realized the place where things had gone wrong. "Oh, oh my gosh, I can absolutely see where you would get that impression if he didn't bring up Ramin. He was pretty out of it the other night."

"You said you'd meet him at home when he left, called him your partner, kissed him," Casey listed.

"He told me about your first date," Alex added. Their tones were humorously incredulous, teasing. You could feel your cheeks heating up. This hadn't happened in quite a while.

"Dance partner. We live on the first and second floors of the same building. And well, you know someone ten years, you build up affection?" you paused. "It's an easy mistake to make. Besides, did he tell you how said first date ended?"

"No, actually. You and Casey got back from the dance floor before he finished the story."

You hid your head in your hands for a moment. "Well, I'm glad he didn't, because I'm not sure I could've handled the mortification." Everyone at the table kept looking at you, expectantly. "It ended with me coming out to him, then crying into his shoulder about it. So, no second date."

"It's all good, Caroline," Serena said, helping your nerves. "I'm sure Alex just wasn't paying attention. She's like that."

Alex shot her a playful frown. You felt at ease, more comfortable and wanted to share more with the group.

"When Ophélie was in preschool, I used to take her to music class on the weekends. I was still a junior in college, so I would show up to these fancy Palo Alto mommy and me classes with my backpack full of textbooks," you told, reminiscing on your younger years with your niece. "I swear, every new session, I'd walk in and another one of my professors would be there with their kids, the looks on their faces were just so priceless." Nobody seemed bored of you yet, so you kept going. "That little girl is the reason I became a lawyer," you said, in a more serious tone.

"What do you mean by that?" Pippa asked, her passion for protecting kids showing through.

You took a deep breath, not having meant to get so deep tonight-- but you opened up whenever Casey or Alex was around.

"When Ashley sued for custody, he had just graduated and was working in the ensemble of a dance company. I was a couple years behind him, but we were super close, and I was there for every meeting and hearing." You tested the waters, looking around the table to see if anybody looked bored. Seeing no signs, you continued. "And I remember just thinking the attorney was just the coolest person on earth. She convinced a court that this 22-year-old contemporary dancer was more fit to raise a child than that child's wealthy mother. She would work on everything seemingly tirelessly... she eventually found a way to prove that emotional abuse was occurring in the birth mother's home and that Ophélie would be better off Ashley's. When he got custody of Ophélie, I knew I wanted to be like that attorney, prove the supposedly unprovable."

"Wow," Gillian said when you finished talking.

Rita gave you a raise of her eyebrows, said, "Well, you certainly are interesting."

Everyone looked at you like they were trying to figure you out. Casey seemed to be on the verge of tears, and you were holding back some of your own. You sipped your drink, still thinking about how proud you were of Ophélie and the other girls, how lucky you were to have them in your life. You knew it was time to change the subject.

"So, Serena," you said, "Casey told me you two used to play softball together back in the day?" The whole table erupted in laughter, apparently at Serena for being a terrible pitcher.

---

That night, while Casey and Alex dozed off holding one another, Casey murmured softly to Alex, "Baby, you know you'll always be enough for me, right?

"Of course," Alex replied, her voice sleepier than her wife's. "I love you, Case."

---

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