DISCLAIMER: Law & Order: Special Victims Unit and all characters are property of NBC and Dick Wolf.
SPOILERS/GRAPHICS: So far, only Serendipity (Casey's first ep.) For images, music and inspirations that go with the fic, go here.
ARCHIVING: Only with the permission of the author.

Anything Goes
By Babydykecate


Chapter 1

A detective swaggers down an alley that glitters with remnants of a drizzle. She wears a dark brown suit, well cut, with a steel blue button-up shirt. The street lights cast shadows down the alley. On the left street corner, the entrance to the subway is partially visible. On the right is a newspaper vendor, with a fat man sitting on a box with a small black dog barking loudly, but still wagging his tail.

Next on the right is the back entrance of a theater. Blonde chorus girls are chatting and fixing make up while signing autographs and leaving with rich older men. The marquee lights peek out over the top from the front, giving a slight strobe light effect. On the left is the back of a cheap restaurant, with an overflowing trash can. As the detective gets near, the bus boy comes out with trash, and then walks over to one of the chorus girls, who just put a cigarette in her mouth. He holds out a lighter for her, and she pushes his arm away, laughing. He angrily walks towards the restaurant, bumping into the detective. She apprises him as she would a suspect, while he gives her an angry look and goes into the restaurant.

The next building on the left is unidentifiable, except for the owner's abysmal upkeep. A prostitute leans up against it. She starts to walk over to the detective, putting on her best show. She gets a foot away and stops. She stares for a minute, shrugs her shoulders, raises her head slightly, then turns on a heel and goes back to her wall. On the right is a nightclub, with a neon sign flickering, 'Gallucci's' booms the sign. On the steps leading to the nightclub, a man in his late 50's, balding, in a nice gray suit with a dark green shirt, and sage silk tie sits reading the newspaper. The detective walks up and tries to get around the man.

"Excuse me. I have business here, sir," She tells him authoritatively.

"You have business with the owner, Mr. Gallucci?"

"Yes sir, I do. Now if you don't mind-" She moves to side of the man to get to the door. He folds his newspaper into a roll and moves to block her with crossed his arms.

"You're a copper, aren't you? I can just smell you."

"I am Detective Olivia Benson, and if you don't let me by, I'll arrest you for obstruction." 

He loudly snaps open the paper, and holds up the front page for her to see, Broadway Actress Shot and Raped. "You here about this?"

"So what if I am?"

"You can talk to him all you want, but you won't get nothin'." The man says as he steps aside.

"Maybe I'll decide that one." She replies as she enters. She is surrounded by a dark tight hallway with swinging doors to the kitchen, washroom, and storage. As she walks toward the smoky, slightly brighter main room, jazz penetrates the air. She brushes away some of the smoke with her hand, only to find her self face to face with the moll of all molls. Dark hair is curled in Marcel waves that frame a perfectly made up face. Red bow lips mouth the unsung words to the song seductively. She leans in, her tight, low backed crimson dress printed with gold lilies straining.

The moll drawls breathily, "Looking for someone?" The moll is so close that Olivia can tell everything from the perfume she wears to her choice in lingerie. For a moment, she is held in awe, not aware enough to take a breath.

Olivia takes a deep breath "Y-yes." The moll leans back, hips skewed, chest out. "I am looking for the owner, a Mr. Gallucci?"

"Mr. Gallucci doesn't like to be disturbed, but for you I'll make an exception," the grand moll replies. Olivia goes into the curtained off room. After 10 minutes or so the moll gets tired of waiting and goes into the room.

"Are you done talking to the detective, Mr. Gallucci?"

"Yes doll, I am," Mr. Gallucci's deep voice replies. He sarcastically continues, "Show him out with our gratitude."

"Oh, I will," replies the moll with a coy smile.

Olivia stands up from the table and goes toward the moll. The moll places her hand on Olivia's lower back to guide her from the room. Suspiciously, her hand remains there as they reach the main room.

"You know, no one leaves here without dancing with me," says the moll with her hands on her hips.

"You can't be serious."

"You don't think people want to dance with me?" The moll's eyes flutter between being insulted and amused.

"No, it's just… here… us … we?"

"No one knows how to say no to me, not even Gallucci. I do as please and as I see fit. Now are you going to make me lead too?"

"I've done my fair share of leading."

"Really?" The moll raises her eyebrow. "Show me," She challenges, as she walks towards Olivia, swaying her hips as she moves the rhythm of the bar's chaos. Olivia places her hands on the moll's hips and pulls the moll towards her. She firmly puts one hand on the moll's back and the other into the moll's hand. The moll moves Olivia's hand lower, so her hand hits the beginning of the curve, knowing full well that hands naturally move lower when you dance. The trumpet of Anything Goes starts their dance.

Chapter 2

The moll's blood-red nails glide over Olivia, as she and Olivia dance closer. They scrape Olivia's back, while the moll leans into Olivia's body.


Olivia barely hears the moll, as the moll's head is turned away, distracted; her voice muted with a husky softness. Olivia pulls their connected arms toward their bodies, turning the moll's body towards her. The moll slowly finds Olivia's eyes.

"Olivia," she says with a smile playing on her lips.

"What?" Olivia asks thoroughly intrigued. The moll presses her lips close to Olivia's ear. Almost simultaneously there is a glaring light and a sound that clashes with slow grinding jazz.

"Fuck!" Olivia mutters, frustrated. The smokes, the jazz, the moll, are gone. In their place is a groggy combination of fact and fiction. All but the scent of the moll have faded from Olivia's grasp. Olivia's mind is slurred by the copious amounts of vodka she downed in an attempt to distance herself from women.

She curses herself for drinking so much, as memories of her mother filter in, despite her efforts to block them. She knows there are at least two things that separate her from her mother; the regret of drinking (her mother simply stopped caring about the ramifications of her drinking- from the hangovers to Olivia's screams); and the ability to stop. God help her if she ever lost either.

Olivia groans and rolls over, only to have a card poke her from the pocket in the dress shirt she never took off. "Marquesa Di Agostino" it said, followed by her number. Olivia flips it over to read, "To Olivia. Did you really think you'd get away with just a dance? Marquesa." The card smells strongly of Marquesa; and Olivia realizes, so does she.

Olivia then sees the clock, "Fuck," she utters again. She dresses quickly in a pair of jersey/wool wide leg pants, a crimson men's dress shirt she's had altered, and trench coat. She remembers at the last moment to slip the card into her pocket.

Chapter 3

Olivia finds her partner interlocked in a heated debate with Munch over whether the depression is a conspiracy by the government. It turns out the men can only agree on one thing, how she looks.

"Olivia, you look like crap," smirks Elliot, "Rough night?" He had never let her live down the incredibly regrettable lapse in judgment in known as Cassidy. Not only had she slept with a boy, she had slept with a Boy Scout.

"Just the weather and the inter-" she starts.

"What forget where the bed was, Liv?" Munch chimes in.

"Why, you not need yours?" she retorts.

"My wives might say other-"

"But Munch, they lef-" Elliot cuts Olivia off, as he drags her to her desk.

"Liv, I know he's a bit much for anyone this early in the morning; but that's no reason to take it out on him."

"El, I know. I-" Out of the corner of her eye, Olivia watches a striking redhead strut into the squad room and loses her thought. The redhead is wearing a purple wool suit with a lime-green silk scarf and hat. She walks confidently towards Elliot and Olivia, and extends her hand to Olivia.

"Olivia, I presume," she says with a wide smile.

"Who the hell are you?" Olivia fumes; annoyed that not one, but two women have distracted her in the past 48 hours. "What is it with me and women?" she wonders.

"That's our new ADA. Casey Novak, Olivia Benson. Olivia, this is Casey Novak."

Elliot leads Casey away from the sleep deprived, uncensored Olivia. Olivia overhears snippets of their conversation.

"Do I know you?"

"Ya short stop, cops team."

"Oh right, I didn't recognize you when you weren't covered…" "You know they let me on a team during the war, and they haven't been able to get me off," Casey says with a laugh.

"God, she's cocky," Olivia thinks, "And hot. Bad Olivia. Cocky. Cocky. Damn, I'm thinking about a word that starts with cock. Why do men always interfere?"

Chapter 4

Olivia continues to watch Casey throughout the day; catching her pointing out the errors in several of Munch's arguments on the Depression Conspiracy. The ADA has proved to be a formable opponent for the guys, much like Olivia. Olivia almost laughs when Casey shoots Munch a death glare, her ever color-changing eyes, a deep green. She is lost for a moment in the contrast of Casey's champagne skin to her fiery red hair. Then she remembers what's been pulling at her mind all day, the card. Olivia begins dialing Marquesa's number, while desperately thinking of what to say.

"Hello?" Marquesa's throaty voice fills the phone.

"Hi, Marquesa, it's Olivia."

"Olivia, I had hoped you hadn't forgotten me," Marquesa teases.

"No, I can't say I have," Olivia chuckles.

"Did you call just to hear my voice, Detective, or did you have grander plans?"

"Well, um, we have a Policeman's Ball every year and-"



"I said yes, Detective. Now tell me when it is; and what you want to see me in."

"This Friday, 8pm at the Pierre Hotel, and wear anything. I'm sure you'd look good in a paper bag."

"I think I can probably find something a little nicer. Now promise me, you won't let me leave without a dance with you."

"I won't."

"Say it," Marquesa insists.

"I promise I won't let you leave without a dance with me," Olivia repeats, uncomfortable in her new position around Marquesa's finger.

"Thank you, Detec-tivvve," Marquesa drawls, "I'll make sure to wear something that will keep you attentive."

"I'm sure I'll be all eyes. See you Friday, Marquesa."

"Take care of yourself, Detective, or I'll have to," and with that Marquesa hangs up.

Bing Crosby's voice resonates thru the room.

You came to me from out of nowhere, 
you took my heart and found it free.
Wonderful dreams, wonderful schemes from nowhere, 
made every hour sweet as a flower for me.

And if you should go back to your nowhere, 
leaving me with a memory,
I'll always wait for your return out of nowhere, 
hoping you'll bring your love to me.

Olivia is sitting at the bar of the Hotel, sipping a glass of straight gin. The alcohol burns her lips, raw from the frost that hit the city suddenly that night. She has the desire to smoke; something she hasn't done since she was an 18-year old kid, anxious to appear cool in gay bar. Tonight she wants one to steel her nerves; and let's be honest, appear cool. Instead she takes another sip, willing her mind to stop the cascade of images of all the women in her life.

As she reaches to fix the red rose in her lapel, her eye catches a glance of red at the top of the grand staircase. There in her full glory is Casey. She's wearing a floor length, fur-trimmed ivory velvet coat; which causes her to be impossible to ignore. Olivia can practically feel her chin hit the floor. Casey notices Olivia staring, and smiles like a cat that got exactly what it wanted. Then Casey raises her head regally, and slowly descends the stairs, her coat curving around the stairs like a snake. When she reaches the bottom of the stairs, she meets Olivia's eyes again with a smoldering focus.

She struts towards Olivia and asks, "Care to buy me a drink, Olivia?"

"Y-yes. You'd-, what would you like?" Olivia manages to get out.

"I'd kill for a Champs Elysee," Casey replies.

Olivia turns to the bartender, "a Champs Elysee for the lady, please."

As Olivia pulls out the stool for Casey, she asks, "Would you be more comfortable if I helped you out of your coat?" Secretly praying the answer is yes.

"No thank you, I'm still warming up from outside," she replies with a twinkle in her eye.

Olivia has the sneaking suspicion that Casey is up to something.

"So how are you settling into your new job?" Olivia asks, trying to focus on Casey's face. Every other day, the problem would be not focusing on Casey's face, but the coat is causing new problems for Olivia. The naturally tall ADA is elongated to extreme lengths, making her seem even more otherworldly than normally. Her long, flowing sleeves exaggerate her movements and the fur collar that crosses at her waist frames her face and draws attention to her chest (which Olivia did so not need done for her).

"It's heartbreaking, the cases you guys deal with," she replies as a haunted look crosses her face, "But couldn't have asked for better or more challenging (to which she adds an eyebrow emphasis) colleagues."

"Are you surviving the boys all right?" Olivia asks, referring to the sometimes sophomoric Elliot, Munch and Fin.

"Oh, they're all talk and no bite. A puppy before he gets his teeth. I've played on an All-Men's Softball Team for years, not much fazes me anymore. Besides, I grew up playing with the boys."

"So you've seen every-"

"Oliv-via, you missed my en-trance." Marquesa whines. Olivia had been so captivated by Casey; she had failed to notice that Marquesa had joined them in the foyer of the hotel.

Marquesa is dressed in skin-tight sequined black dress that glitters in the light cast from the chandeliers. The neckline is piped in a canary-yellow trim that continues to the back. Marquesa's back is partially exposed by the v-back that ends in a tie, connecting the ends of the selves. Her bright-red lipstick matches her nails. In a word, she is stunning.

"Who the hell are you, might I ask," Casey fires, making it clear it isn't really a question. Olivia might have laughed at repeated phrase, were the tension not so thick you could cut it with a knife (or maybe Marquesa's talon-like nails).

"I'm Olivia's date," Marquesa states with a very tight, smug smile.

"Well, aren't you special?" Casey retorts.

"Kill me now," Olivia thinks. "Marquesa, would you like a drink?" Olivia asks, trying her best to appease the moll; who clearly isn't thrilled to have found Olivia talking to another woman.

"No, Olivia, I wouldn't," she replies, her voice hard. "I'd. Like. To. Dance," she firmly spits the words. Olivia observes that Marquesa appears to be executing her best efforts in staking claim of Olivia.

Then Marquesa thrusts her arm into Olivia's, dragging her up the stairs and towards the ballroom. Olivia swears it's the equivalent of a 5-year sticking out her tongue. Olivia would love to look back at Casey; to give her some hint that she isn't an entirely willing participant in the latest punch in this boxing match. But then again, she doesn't feel much like dying tonight.

Chapter 4

As Olivia and Marquesa enter the ballroom, they are greeted with the sight of 100 or so couples swing dancing. The room is almost pitch black, illuminated like a candle by two large chandlers, and small lights on the walls that surround the room. In back of the room is band, playing "Can You Take It?"

Marquesa begins swaying her hips and shoulders to the music; while reaching for Olivia's other hand. She turns their bodies around and thrusts Olivia onto the dance floor. Their bodies twist and bounce to the fast paced music. Marquesa has a natural rhythm that combines with an in-your-face sexiness, to make her the center of attention most of the time. Marquesa forces Olivia to do the most dramatic moves they can with Marquesa's long dress. Olivia begins to feel like rubber band as they jump towards each other and then back again.

Every time Olivia sees a couple where the guy throws the girl in the air; Olivia prays Marquesa doesn't notice. Marquesa may be light; but firstly Olivia doesn't really want to find out; and secondly Olivia is pretty sure they'd end up on the floor due to Marquesa's hem or Olivia's poor estimates in distance. Thankfully, Olivia manages to get through the dance without that particular means of getting attention. By the end of the song, Olivia is exhausted. She breathes a sigh of relief when the band plays the opening bars to Night and Day, a much slower song. They dance closer, adjusting to the new rhythm.

"Can, I cut in?" Casey has found them, and is now demanding a fair chance at Olivia. "Damn it, I feel like the rope in tug of war," thinks Olivia, "This is ridiculous."

"No-" starts Marquesa.

But Olivia cuts her of, "Yes," she says with a sigh. "This is going to be a long night," thinks Olivia. "And I'm going to end up in trouble with one of them."  The band begins to play "You're Driving Me Crazy (What Did I Do to You)."

Casey is still in her coat, which means they have to dance very carefully. Despite this, Casey is an excellent dancer, and is extremely expressive with her body. "I should have guessed," muses Olivia, "After all, think how you can't help but know how she feels when you look at her face."

"My turn," Marquesa remarks with glee. Their bodies are only inches apart after Marquesa's attempts to monopolize Olivia.

"Olivia," Casey says batting her eyes jokingly (yet Olivia finds it thoroughly sexy), "I'm getting hot. Could you help me with my coat?"

"Of course, Casey," Olivia says, maybe slightly too eagerly. Olivia's fingers "accidentally" graze Casey's back as she removes the coat. At first, all she sees are the layers of silk that cascade off Casey's shoulders encasing her otherwise bare back.

As Casey turns around, Olivia is unprepared for the sight. The lime-green silk dress hugs all of Casey's body, up to just above her hips; and it leaves nothing to the imagination. "Casey, aren't you wearing a br-" Olivia wonders in her head, leading her to a realization that causes her to avert her eyes and blush furiously. A stream of curse words fills Olivia's head, as she tries hard not to imagine Casey nude.

What happens next renders Olivia incapable of putting together a simple sentence. Casey presses her body against Olivia's, propelling them towards the dance floor again. Casey takes the startled Detective's hands; and places one on the small of her back and the other on the back of her ribcage. Soon, there is almost no separation between their intertwined bodies. Olivia has decided thought isn't necessary for life. Their hips move as one, and they are unaware of when one song ends and the next begins.

Olivia finally puts together something resembling a thought, "Damn, Casey," she utters. To which Casey only replies with a wide smile. In the back of her mind, Olivia realizes that somewhere in the room is a really pissed moll; but remember, Olivia's given up on the whole thinking thing.

Chapter 5

Olivia doesn't remember how she ended up on the balcony with Casey. Oh, she vividly remembers the point at which Casey took off her coat; what she can't explain is how they have progressed from "who the hell are you" to being less than an inch apart for the last half hour. Olivia remembers when she was jolted to awareness by the harsh wind. And she definitely can't forget when Casey's body reacted to the cold air, repeating the beginning of her demise. Casey certainly seemed to enjoy Olivia's discomfort. And with a self-satisfied grin, she thinks "And I think she enjoys kissing me even more," as Olivia continues to partake in that particular pleasure.

Regardless of her Casey-haze, this is what Olivia can remember. After dancing so close that their temperatures rose; their inhibitions were less; and their patience to act on their lust was greatly diminished; they ended up on the Balcony without ever letting the other leave their grasp. Casey decided (wisely in Olivia's mind) to continue dancing, but in a style that might be seen as inappropriate inside (though they had most certainly pushed it to the limit inside, but Casey was...even wilder outside).

She thinks of Casey grinding her hips into Olivia's center, guiding Olivia's hands to roam her hips and thighs. And how she turned to face Olivia, as their hands roamed everywhere, not caring what they exposed in their wake. Olivia felt like she was about to explode as she finally captured Casey's lips, while she wrapped one of Casey's legs around her waist and they continued to dance. The first kiss was brief, an assurance and a tease. They pulled back with Chester Cat grins.

"Bet you're glad you choose me now," Casey punctuated with her signature eyebrow raise and a smirk.

"It wasn't a choice at all, Casey," Olivia replied only to be rewarded with a kiss that carried them until their next necessary breath. And in that breath, Olivia is back to the present. As they lean back into another kiss, they stop when a snowflake lands on Casey's check.

"Make a wish, Casey."

"Ok, I have it," Casey says with a smile. She almost jumps when Olivia licks and kisses off the snowflake, instead of blowing it.

Being Casey, though, she has a retort, "I hope you don't do that with dandelions."

Olivia suddenly realizes Casey is only wearing the silk dress in the snow (ok... maybe she was reminded). "Casey you must be freezing, let's go back inside."

"Olivia, no," Casey pleads. "I want to run away with you," she jokes, "No, seriously, can we ditch this party and walk around the Park. This Hotel is just across from the pond in Central Park."

"That's sounds lovely, Casey. Let's go, but you have to wear your coat. I don't want a girlfriend with pneumonia."

Casey chuckles and concedes.

Chapter 6

Olivia saunters to the chair where Casey left her coat, while Casey goes to the bathroom to freshen up. As she turns from admiring the gorgeous coat, she finds her self face to face with Marquesa.

"Herrr?" drawls the fuming moll. "You abandoned me for her? Some obnoxiously forward redhead with the color taste of a dog?"

"Casey is incredibly beautiful, and she looks stunning in lime. I'll have you know, I love her quick tongue. Marquesa, some things just don't work out. Move on, and leave me alone."

"You'll regret this Olivia. No one ever dumps me, especially for a redhead. I'm a million times the woman she'll ever be."

Olivia spies Casey walking quickly from the women's room. She notes that Casey carefully showcases her allure in her strut, but hurries to steal Olivia from Marquesa.

"Go fuck yourself Marquesa; you're not getting any from me. I'd always choose Casey, no matter how hot you looked and how horribly her outfit clashed. To me, she's perfect. Now fuck off."

"Fine, have it your way," Marquesa replied venom practically oozing from her voice. "I'm sure you and Casey will be very happy," she said sardonically. With that she turned with a humph and strode out of the room.

"What was that all about?" asked Casey.

"Oh, nothing. Marquesa is just pissed about you and me. As you said earlier, all bark…" Olivia replies. "Come on, there's a bench with our name on it."

"I can't wait. But Olivia- I think you underestimate her."

"Ok Casey, but she's just another scorned woman."

Casey shakes her head, "Olivia, you've never had an ex-girlfriend who sees you with another woman, have you?"

The park is beautiful at dusk with the snow falling. The pond glitters as snow floats on the water, and the pond slowly freezes. Casey's incredibly stunning face is illuminated by the setting sun, as they walk along the path to the bench overlooking the lake and the glowing hotel. They walk with Olivia encasing Casey her arms, their hands linked.

"So, what do you do for fun?" Casey asks.

"I love running. Anytime I'm angry at the world; or someone in particular; running helps. Sometimes, it's like every thud is like a punch. Sorry, that's a little bitter... I don't know… I love talking to my friends over drinks. I love horror films, like 'Dracula', and some of the action and romance ones. And I adore dating dashing women," Olivia responds with a smile.

"I see," Casey says with a laugh as she turns her face towards Olivia and kisses her.

"How about you?" Casey asks.

"I enjoy beating all the guys at softball, outsmarting naive lawyers in court, and seducing detectives." Casey replies.

"Are you sure you're doing that last one enough?"

"Oh, yes. I think I'm doing it perfectly... Olivia, this is beautiful, but I've heard the view is even better from my apartment."

"Well then, we must find out." Olivia replies, eagerly awaiting the 'view'. They continue to walk with Olivia's arms around Casey. They don't hurry, instead enjoying the way the rest of the world has disappeared. When the world tries to butt in, such as when strangers stare, they simply kiss it away. "A wish, a kiss, whatever makes you happy," thinks Olivia contentedly.

Chapter 7

Olivia lazily leans against the door frame of Casey's neighbor, as she watches Casey struggle with the door. She admires the way the silk curves around Casey's ass. The deep plunge exposes Casey's creamy back, the muscles flexing as she forces the key into the lock.

"Are you sure you don't need any help?" Olivia asks again. As much as she is enjoying the view, she wouldn't exactly mind going into the apartment.

"I said I could do it, didn't I?" Casey replies, slightly annoyed. With one final shove, she gets the door open. "There, see?"

"You're a magician, Casey," Olivia says, as she covers Casey's neck with kisses.

"Olivia, you'd be a dead goose for mocking me…" Casey sighs, "If that didn't feel so damn incredible."

Olivia puts a finger to Casey's lips, before kissing her hard. As she kisses Casey, she thrusts their bodies thru the doorway. She kicks the door shut as she shoves Casey against the wall. As her hands explore Casey's waist and shoulders, she finds a strap in her way. She hurries to pull the purse off Casey, throwing it to the floor; desiring starting to affect her. As her hands reach Casey's breasts, she pauses.

"Casey, why aren't you wearing a bra?"

"It got your attention, didn't it?" she smirks, "Besides, now it can't slow us down."

"I have to admit, I like the way your mind works," Olivia says with a sexy grin.

"Olivia, stop staring and act," Casey says, bringing Olivia's hand to her breast. "I'm not some bloody statue to admire." Olivia can't help but agree.

The silk slides under Olivia's fingers as she circles Casey's nipple. The next time their lips meet, Casey tugs on Olivia's tux jacket.

"Liv… Jacket. Off. Now," Casey says impatiently. The two make quick work of the jacket, bow tie, and the first three buttons of Olivia's dress shirt. As she returns to running her tongue along Casey's collarbone, Casey takes Olivia's hand to her dress strap, and Olivia slowly (much too slowly for Casey's liking) tugs down the straps, to reveal lustrous, pale décolleté. Not long after Olivia has rolled Casey's rose pink nipples in her mouth, she finds Casey has moved her hand to the sole button keeping the dress stretched taunt across Casey's ass.

As Olivia slips the button through its hole, she admires the delicate pink silk knickers that hug Casey's firm derriere. Olivia slides her hands under the top of her knickers. Her hands grip Casey's ass, nails digging into her soft flesh. Casey pops the final buttons on Olivia's shirt, yanking it down. She undoes the bra's hook and eye, her month quickly finding Olivia's husky brown nipple. With careful maneuvering, she manages to keep her tongue teasing Olivia, as she reaches down and takes off Olivia's tux pants.

"Olivia, I do believe you were expecting to get some," Casey says as she gives Olivia a brief reprieve, responding to the shorted guy's boxers that have been worn to the point of sheerness.

"I plead the 5th," Olivia responds as she kisses Casey, their tongues dancing roughly.

Olivia finally realizes the wall may not be the best place to fuck when a bed is ready and willing. Olivia pulls Casey to the bedroom, never completing relinquishing her grasp of Casey's supple body. The cream fluffy feather cover curls around Casey's curves as Olivia hovers above her.

"Still want me?" Olivia asks.

"God yes, Liv. Now hurry up, will you?"

With that, Olivia relieves Casey of her knickers, one forceful tug at a time (as if to some imaginary jazz beat). Casey was beautiful, like a dew-covered pink dahlia flower. Her swollen clit, a deep blushing pink. She almost laughs at the cuteness of Casey- when she drags her finger over Casey's sodden core; Casey points her toes like a ballerina. When her hand disconnects from Casey's heat, Casey's hips shoot up in the air, pleading for Olivia to enter her again.

"Liv…" Casey utters in a flustered, yet warning tone. With her urging, Olivia brings her mouth to Casey's raised hips, as she clutches Casey's ass in her hands, pushing Casey's hips hard against Olivia. Her tongue circles her clit slowly at first, then faster and faster; as her nails dig deep in Casey's backside. Then she drags her teeth against the hard bud. Casey begins to shutter, as Olivia continues to circle and nip her clit. Adding a finger at the last minute, Olivia feels Casey contract around it.

"Li…v…" Casey barely manages, overwhelmed.

Casey looks unbelievably sexy with her hair strewn wildly across the sheets, her eyes dilated, as she tries to remain focused on Olivia's. She half closes her eyes and arches her back. Olivia can tell she's exhausted, but Casey still reaches to pull down Olivia's boxers.

"Casey, there's all the time in the world for that. Sleep in my arms?"

"I can't think of anything better… You know, you're not allowed to leave the house without convulsing with me inside you."

"I wouldn't dream of it, Casey."

Olivia encircles Casey's waist possessively, her other hand resting on her hip. Casey nuzzles her shoulder, before tucking her head into Olivia's chest. Olivia watches Casey fall asleep, marveling at the angel in her arms.

Part 8

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