DISCLAIMER: Don't own anything, let alone these two. Borrowed for entertainment purposes only and returned no worse for the wear.
THANKS: To Shay, for having the dream that sparked this story and for always giving me great C/O ideas. And to my LJ flist, for being very good for my self-esteem! :)
ARCHIVING: Only with the permission of the author.
"How do you do that?"
Startled, Olivia Benson struggled with her urge to jerk the steering wheel hard to the left out of sheer surprise.
"Do what?" she asked. She hoped it sounded as innocuous as she wanted it to, but she had her doubts. She'd been watching the supposedly dozing ADA for the last five miles of their drive, admiring the way her features relaxed in sleep, wondering how soft her skin would feel beneath her fingertips. Had she been caught?
Damn. Jesus, Benson, you're usually better at the subterfuge thing than this.
"How do you know the way back to the hotel after only being there once? I don't understand it. I'd be so lost."
Relief and--strangely enough--disappointment washed through Olivia. "Oh," she said, her voice sounding strained even to her own ears. "I just do. I paid attention to the landmarks and the street names. It's just--"
"--One of those 'detective' things. I know." Casey Novak opened her eyes fully and glanced out the passenger's side window, scowling. "It makes me sick. I'd be on the side of the road wishing I had OnStar or something. At the very least I'd be calling Triple A."
Liv smiled. "You don't own a car, Case. Why would you have a membership to Triple A?"
"Oh, I don't. But you'd better believe someone there would answer my questions or so help me, I would make their lives a living Hell for the foreseeable future. I do not like being lost."
"Somehow," chuckled the sorrel-haired detective, "I can see you doing that."
The ADA sighed aggrievedly. "Yeah, but the phrase 'fear the wrath of Casey' just doesn't command all that much respect, you know?"
Both women laughed and Olivia felt her awkwardness and embarrassment fade away. If there was one thing Casey Novak never failed to do, it was to make Olivia laugh, whether intentionally or unintentionally. It was one of the things she loved most about the younger woman.
Love? Come on, Benson, don't torture yourself, okay? More unrequited bullshit. How cliche.
Seeking to shift the tone of her internal dialogue, Olivia changed the subject and hoped that a different topic would be safer.
"So, you never did tell me what happened in there with Feriglio's lawyers..."
Casey had been so mad after that last meeting that she'd just stalked up to Olivia and said "Let's go." The detective had meant to ask her what was wrong but considering that this whole process had been one huge ordeal for months, she figured she knew the gist of it.
Either Illinois had once again reversed their decision on the extradition or Feriglio's lawyers had once again appealed it or, God forbid, Feriglio had copped to yet another rape/murder in yet another state and there were conflicting extradition requests...again. When the Cook County DA had called Arthur Branch two weeks ago to confirm Feriglio's extradition to New York, the Manhattan DA decided to send Casey Novak along for the ride to make sure that, from a legal standpoint, everything went smoothly. This was the fourth time in ten months the NYPD had attempted to collect Rinaldo Feriglio and Arthur Branch meant to have the bastard in Rikers this time, come Hell or high water.
Casey scowled darkly. "Remember that new paperwork on Feriglio's extradition that was fucked to Hell when we arrived this morning?"
"Yeah..." Liv nodded absently as she turned left onto a moderately-sized city street. The traffic was thick but moving along fairly well, which forced her to keep her attention mostly on her driving.
"Well, it's still fucked. And according to the brothers Grimm," said Casey, referring to the prisoner's quite elderly and dour-faced legal team, "and the Cook County DA, it's going to stay fucked until the day after tomorrow, at least."
Olivia's knuckles went white on the steering wheel and she almost choked. She was having enough trouble keeping her thoughts about her friend orderly and innocent, especially since they were sharing a room at the hotel the DA's office had chosen for them. Now they were going to be here an extra day?
Casey shook her head, her long, red-gold tresses dancing around her face with the movement. "But all is not lost, Detective," she said, grinning at her driver. "You and I get a free day in the Windy City courtesy of Arthur Branch. I'm sure we can find some way of occupying ourselves while we wait for TweedleDecrepit and TweedleDumbass to sort out their paperwork issues."
If possible, Olivia's knuckles went even whiter. She wondered if she would be able to let go of the steering wheel once they got to the hotel or if she'd have to bring it in with her.
I will not think of inappropriate sexual activities. The whisper of warm skin over hers. I will not think of inappropriate sexual activities. The heat of languid kisses in the dark. I will not think of--oh fuck it.
Liv pulled up to a red light and sighed. She rubbed one hand over her eyes and groaned slightly in self-recrimination.
Casey's concern was sincere and immediate.
"Olivia, are you okay?" She put one hand on Liv's forearm and the older woman shivered gently but somehow managed not to pull away.
"Yeah," she said. "Just tired. A day off sounds great right about now." The detective wondered if the attorney was buying any of her lies or if she was playing along out of pity.
"God, Liv! You could tell me to drive every once in a while. I don't mind and you shouldn't have to be my chauffeur."
The light turned green and Olivia eased the rental into the intersection. She turned to reassure Casey that she was fine but the words never left her mouth.
Two things happened almost simultaneously: first, the world began to spin sickeningly and second, an unholy cacophony of screeching tires, crunching metal, and shattering glass assailed their ears.
When the car finally--blessedly--came to a stop, Olivia could only think of one thing to say.
Five and a half hours later, a Chicago PD cruiser dropped two exhausted, hungry, and sore women off at the door to their hotel. Olivia leaned down to talk to the driver and his partner.
"Thanks Eddie, Sonia... We appreciate the ride."
"Hey, no problem. Anything for our brothers and sisters in blue, right, Sonia?" Eddie Santorelli was a smiling Italian man with laughing brown eyes and salt-and-pepper hair. Sonia Vasquez was a serious Latina with eyes as dark as her long, inky hair.
"Sure," she said, agreeing with her partner. "And Eddie will make sure he gets you a car from our motor pool in the morning. I think that rental is headed for the crusher."
"Yeah. The rental company offered another one but I'm not sure I wanna risk it," said Olivia, frowning slightly. "Eddie, don't bring anything special. You can leave the keys at the desk in the morning if you're in a hurry. Just let them know they're for me."
"No problem," said Eddie again. "It's not like the CPD has anything other than 1980's sedans in the motor pool anyway. And hey, you two get some rest, okay? After seeing your car, I have no frickin' idea how either of you came away from that with no broken bones."
"Neither do I," agreed the NYPD detective. She really didn't know how they'd managed to walk away from the twisted remains of what had once been a silver Camry; Casey with a cut under her left eye and herself with only a nebulous soreness that encompassed her whole body. All she wanted was to take a hot shower and to crawl into her bed. "Thanks again," she said and she stood. She ignored the twinge that ran down her spine and pounded the top of the cruiser twice, letting Eddie know he could safely move on.
"Come on, Detective," said a soft voice behind Olivia as she watched the tail lights of the cruiser pull away. "Let's get you into a hot bath." Even sore and tired, Liv still felt sweet desire skitter over her skin at Casey's words. She pushed the feeling deep down inside her and followed the attorney up to their suite, sighing when the door was closed and locked behind them. She lowered her head and let her shoulders slump, standing awkwardly in the small sitting room that was part of their suite. She wondered if she looked as bad as she felt.
"Off you go, Liv. Hot bath. Now." Casey pushed Olivia gently in the general direction of the suite's bathroom. "I'm going to order us the biggest dinner room service can provide--once again, courtesy of Arthur Branch, who can suck up this expense because we are now transportationless until tomorrow. You should be about finished by the time it gets here."
Olivia hesitated at the door. "But what about you, Case? You have to be just as sore as me. And what about that cut under your eye? How's it feeling?"
Casey very nearly melted at Olivia's concern but she wasn't about to let that show. Instead, she waved her off. "It's fine. Stings a little, but not enough to require a hot bath. Besides, I can always soak later if I need to. Right now, you need the tub more than I do, so no more stalling. In!" She pointed at the bathroom, her features arranged into a stern, almost maternal mask that made Olivia laugh.
"Okay, okay, 'Mom'. I'm going." She stuck her tongue out at Casey before shutting the bathroom door.
The redhead narrowed her eyes. "Stow it, Detective Smart Ass," she called, grinning when she heard the unmistakable sound of a raspberry from the other side of the door. She shook her head as she walked to the phone on the end table between their beds. Picking up the receiver, she wondered if Olivia was enjoying the banter as much as she was. After a moment's contemplation, she finally shrugged, not really caring one way or the other. She was having enough fun for the both of them.
Pressing the button for the front desk, she said, "Room service, please."
"Ugh," grunted Olivia as Casey emerged from her post-dinner shower. "Remind me never to eat that much ever again." The detective was unartfully arranged on her chosen double bed, clad in a pair of red plaid flannel pj pants and a black tank top, and she groaned piteously.
"Wuss," laughed the redhead who was toweling her hair dry. Though she had to agree with Olivia at least a little bit. Especially after looking at the remains of their dinner strewn about the service cart and the desk in the corner. It had been quite a lot of food.
Two house salads with ranch dressing, a Greek antipasto plate with grilled pita bread, a plate of delicate spring rolls, two chocolate milkshakes, a plate of fresh fruit and cheese, and four different kinds of cheesecake. Plus a bottle of wine that was still breathing on top of the television armoire.
Casey threw her towel on her bed and went about cleaning up the evidence of their gluttony. She figured Arthur's matronly assistant would have a field day with the bill for this stay and imagined her sending a memo to all the ADAs with a copy of the FDA food pyramid prominently displayed at the top, followed by a lecture on moderation and proper nutrition.
Olivia heard the clinking of plates and silverware and tried to push herself up off the bed. "Lemme help, Casey," she said through gritted teeth. She was obviously in pain.
"Oh no you don't, Detective." The redhead unceremoniously pushed Olivia back down. "You are staying right there. You're going to take a handful of Ibuprofen, have a glass of wine, and relax. No work for you."
Though her first instinct was to deny any weakness, Olivia was aware enough to realize that her body ached like Hell and perhaps Casey didn't want a lurching, unsteady detective handling breakable plates and leftovers.
"Whatever you say, 'Mom'," she said as she folded her hands over her belly. A crumpled napkin hit her right between her closed eyes.
"I said you could stow that, Detective Smart Ass," groused Casey. "Or you won't get your massage later."
One of Liv's eyes opened cautiously. "Massage?" she asked, her voice an unflattering squeak. But Casey had disappeared with the service cart.
When the ADA returned a few minutes later, it was with a glass of water and three white caplets.
"Here you go. Take these first and I'll get you a glass of wine."
Not trusting herself to speak, Olivia palmed the pills and downed them with one gulp of the icy water. Then she took the offered glass of wine, sipping it carefully and studiously ignoring the red flag her brain seemed to be waving.
She rearranged herself on her bed so she was propped up against the rather thin pillows and she took another sip of the deep ruby liquid. It was peppery on her tongue and had hints of berry, cherry, and oak underneath the strong, dark grape flavor.
"Mmmm," she hummed as she leaned her head back against the headboard. "This is good. What's it called?"
Casey folded the towel she'd been using and took a sip from her own glass of the wine. "Ooh, it is good," she agreed, picking up the bottle to read the unusual label. "It's called Cardinal Zin."
The part of Olivia's brain waving the red flag tried to rally but the rest of her brain, quickly becoming warm and fuzzy from the wine, shushed it. Liv smiled but said nothing.
Halfway through her second glass she shifted her position. The movement caused a writhing twinge in her shoulders and before she could stop herself, Olivia hissed in pain.
Casey, who'd been relating a story about the first time she'd met Arthur Branch, fell silent. She looked at Olivia for a long moment as if torn. Then she stood.
"Take off your tank, Liv, and lay on your stomach. It's time for that massage." She disappeared into the bathroom, leaving a stunned and blushing detective staring at the space where she'd just been standing. She returned with a bottle of something very green only to find Olivia still sitting exactly where she'd left her.
"Did I stutter?" she asked, waving the bottle in Liv's general direction. "Tank. Off. Now."
The detective in Olivia reacted instinctively to the snap of command and stripped herself of the tank while she simultaneously rolled onto her stomach. Only after she was face down on the strangely-colored comforter did the woman in Olivia think to ask any questions at all.
"Better?" She'd intended it to sound sarcastic but it came out anything but.
"Much. Now just relax, okay?" Olivia felt the bed dip as Casey kneeled next to her. The detective closed her eyes and tried to go with the whole strange scenario. That lasted for exactly three seconds or until the redhead straddled her buttocks. Liv's rust-brown eyes snapped wide open and she almost let out another one of those unflattering squeaks. Only by the grace of God did she manage not to buck Casey right off her back in unadulterated shock.
"By 'relax', Olivia, I meant for you to loosen up a little. Not for you to tense up like a frat boy on a quiz show."
The brunette laughed beneath Casey and her rigid muscles let go of some of their tension.
"See? That wasn't so hard, was it?" The younger woman popped open the bottle of green oil and the sharp scent of limes cut through the room.
No, that wasn't hard, thought the detective. Hard is feeling you above me, straddling me, and not making a single movement that would even hint to you how much I want to touch you.
Casey poured a thin stream of the lime oil on Olivia's toned and tawny back, noticing as she did so that her hands were shaking like she'd just downed a triple-shot espresso on an empty stomach.
Hard, she thought, is feeling you beneath me and not turning you over so I can kiss you senseless.
Heart pounding, Casey began to smooth the oil over Olivia's shoulders. She quickly lost herself to the slickness of it, to the warmth of Olivia's skin beneath her fingertips, to the rhythm and pressure of her hands as they kneaded and rubbed.
As she moved lower, she began to wonder just exactly what she could get away with here. She knew that this might be the only time she ever saw Liv so relaxed and open and she did not want to waste the opportunity. First, she concentrated on the beautiful detective's sharply defined shoulder blades and the sinewy musculature that surrounded them. She felt knots of tension she guessed were years old begin to dissolve under her touch and she grew more confident with every passing moment.
Silence was the women's only companion as Casey worked her way down Olivia's spine and it was broken only when she dug into some particularly tender muscles in the small of the older woman's back.
"Not so hard there, Casey," gasped Olivia. "I think I wrenched that today."
The young ADA's hands immediately gentled their pressure. "In the accident? God, I'm sorry, Liv."
The detective shook her head. "Don't be sorry. This is really helping." She hoped Casey's question about injuring her back in the accident was rhetorical because she didn't really want to answer it. While most of her soreness had come from just the accident itself, she suspected the wrenched back came from the moments immediately after when she had literally pried Casey's door open to free her from the wreckage.
The redhead smiled down at her subject. "I'm glad." She finished with the small of Liv's back, retrieved the bottle of oil, and limned her hands with another thin coat of the citrus-scented lubricant. Sighing unconsciously with the pleasure of touching this beautiful woman who had been the object of some very professionally inappropriate desires for quite some time, Casey glided her hands up Olivia's sides, barely touching her, watching as goosebumps followed the passage of her fingertips.
Olivia heard the small exhalation and felt her stomach drop in response.
Oh God, she's enjoying this just as much as I am... Fucking hell, I did not need to know that.
While she wondered what to do with that particular information, she felt Casey's warm hands slip over her sides then brush the sides of her breasts. The young woman's breath hitched almost imperceptibly but Liv's investigatory skills, honed to pinpoint accuracy after years of chasing down scumbags, had no trouble hearing and interpreting the sound.
Desire, pure and heady.
The sound invaded Olivia's body, her bloodstream, and swept through her like a fever. She groaned in response, appreciation for the ADA's more than competent touch and her obvious arousal overwhelming the older woman's familiar restraint.
Horrified, Liv tried to cover her inadvertent revelation with an innocent question. "God Casey, that feels so good... Have you had training or something?"
Casey's hands stilled with confusion as she tried to process the question she'd just been asked. So deep was her concentration and her illicit pleasure in hearing Olivia moan like that, it seemed that her brain had shut down momentarily. Once she'd caught up to the inquiry, though, she forced herself to chuckle casually.
"Not really. I'm a college jock, remember? My dormmate was on the basketball team and I pitched for our softball team. We were tired of relying on our respective coaches for access to the PT so we studied a little bit on our own and became each others' masseuse."
And straddling her like this didn't make me half as wet as straddling you does, she added silently. Jesus. I have to move before I embarrass myself.
Casey finished with Olivia's torso and raised herself up off of the small of her back so she could slide backwards a bit.
Suddenly everything became vividly clear to the NYPD detective. The playful banter, the beautifully shy smiles, the after-hours dinners in Casey's office, the tears when she'd heard the story of her mother's abuse, the eye contact that lasted just a few seconds more than it should have... Could it be?
You'll never know if you don't try, Benson. Take a chance for once in your sorry ass life and reach out to hold the light she willingly brings to you everyday.
The ADA scooted backwards about six inches and planned to resettle herself on Olivia's thighs. However, the older woman suddenly rolled beneath her and sat up. Smiling shyly, she enfolded Casey in her long, brown arms.
"Did your dormmate ever do anything like this?" she asked softly as she quickly found the hem of Casey's sleepshirt and slid her hands beneath it.
Casey stared at Liv with wide, bright green eyes and shook her head, swallowing nervously. Was this really happening? Had she hit her head in the accident and didn't realize it? Was she dead?
"No," she whispered, her mouth impossibly dry. She licked her lips. "But I wanted her to. So much."
Olivia brought one hand back around to play with the neckline of the thin cotton top, watching her long fingers flutter against the apricot-colored fabric. "Did you want me to?"
Casey closed her eyes, every cell in her body focused on that hand and the spot where it touched her, burning her skin.
"Oh yes..." she breathed. "So much more..."
Liv smiled to herself and slid both hands beneath her top again. She snaked them upwards, gently guiding Casey's arms to rise over her head as she divested her of the worn cloth. Dropping the tee on the floor, she reached up to cup Casey's face with her warm, strong hands.
She tugged the young woman down and just before their mouths met, Casey whimpered.
"Oh God, Liv..."
The kiss was tender and so slow, so soft. With aching, nearly imperceptible touches, Olivia and Casey savored this moment and all it encompassed until finally the detective sent a hesitant and exploring tongue to request entrance into the warmth of Casey's mouth. Admission was granted readily and the two women moaned into each other as they immersed themselves in the sensations of heat and moisture.
It was like dancing in the warm rain that fell in the wild, emerald jungle.
Turning, never breaking their kiss, Olivia gently lowered Casey to the bed and covered her body with her own. She wound her hands in red-gold silk and deepened the connection of their mouths for a long moment before wrenching away, breathless, her eyes shimmering with need.
She reached out to darken the swing lamp next to the bed which left the room drenched in golden light from a dim lamp on the desk.
"I want to see you, Casey," she breathed. She leaned down to nip at the younger woman's kiss-swollen lips and the redhead groaned. Casey tried to capture the maddeningly intoxicating mouth that teased and tortured but she had little success.
"Liv..." she begged, her hands gliding up and down the detective's back, running her blunt nails along the tawny skin in patterns of desire. "Please..."
Olivia pulled back slightly and brushed a stray tendril of hair from Casey's eyes. "Please what, honey?" she asked earnestly. She wanted this to be perfect, lovely, and sweet for Casey. And for herself. She deserved the delicate grace she had found here, in arms as pale as moonlight.
So long... For so long it's been disjointed, detached encounters without any substance. I can't live that way anymore. I need someone real and genuine and radiant. I need someone to hold me when I can't see the truth anymore. Oh God, I need her...
Casey gazed into eyes made caramel by the light and watched as the doors within them shyly creaked open. This wasn't some lighthearted romp to the detective. Olivia was looking down at her with unspoken promises and a hunger that went beyond the merely physical. Casey slowly realized it was just what she had been dreaming of; a way into the strong, beautiful woman's heart.
"Make love to me, Olivia Benson," she whispered, her voice catching on the emotions that welled inside of her. "Take me to a place where all I can feel is you inside me, around me. Where all I can see are your magnificent dark eyes looking at me like you are right now." Heart pounding with her own unexpected courage, she added, "Make me yours."
To the woman who had just offered to fulfill her long-silenced needs, Liv gave her answer in the language of her eyes, her mouth and the touch of her hands. It was poetry of the body, given with the heart and spoken from soul to soul.
Sweet, tender kisses that began at Casey's eyelids and lazily meandered southward, soothing the cut beneath her eye, and blessing jawline, throat and collarbone with an aching benediction. Gentle caresses and burning touches that painted the story of Olivia's desire upon skin that sparkled with shivering fireworks. Quiet words whispered into shell-like ears with the softest of breaths, the most cherished of meanings.
Casey bloomed beneath Olivia's fingertips like a field of daffodils breaking through the last of the springtime snow to dazzle the eyes of God. Soft cries, like prayers, fell from her lips and were swallowed by kisses, each more luscious and silken than the last.
"So beautiful..." murmured Olivia against her lover's petal pink mouth. Slowly, inch by agonizing inch, she slid the attorney's filmy cotton boxers over her curvaceous hips and down until they were entirely removed from her lovely body. "Oh, Casey... Gorgeous..."
With an attention to detail born of an investigator's life, Liv licked and kissed Casey's pale breasts until the young woman arched her back into the caress, sighing her pleasure at the heavenly touch. When the detective took one watermelon pink nipple into her mouth and suckled it with earnest and total focus, she trembled and cried out with a desire so perfectly intense she felt almost blistered by it.
The older woman released the tender flesh in her mouth and gazed into Casey's sage green eyes that were smudged with a deep, smoldering thirst. Moved beyond her wildest imaginings, she poured herself into that well and watched as her offering was drunk eagerly, like water given a lost soul in the Sahara.
"Say it again, Casey..." She cupped the younger woman's oval face in her hands.
"Olivia..." Casey's eyes fell shut and she threw her head back, baring her long, leonine throat to the ardent detective. "God, Olivia... Please..."
"Please what, lover?"
Casey groaned with sweet frustration and arched against the taut, brown body above her, seeking purchase in the tempest of her deepest craving. The bright edge of her lover's teeth as they mapped out a trail of nips and gentle bites from her ear to the hollow of her throat made the redhead shiver in Olivia's long arms.
"Inside... God, I need you inside me..."
Olivia felt the world shift beneath her, buckling and changing, redefining edges into soft, rolling hills and cliffs into level ground. She drew trembling fingertips down from the heartbreaking curve of Casey's cheek to one of her inexpressibly beautiful thighs.
"Yes," she promised. "Anything, Casey... Anything for you..."
With only the hint of pressure, Olivia helped guide her lover's thighs open and she dipped into the velvety warmth she found, feeling reverent and blasphemous at the same time. Awe swamped her and she felt close to drowning, like a cloistered novitiate at the moment of her consecration or a heretic just discovering the existence of mercy. She said a soft, silent prayer of thanks to whatever deity had made this possible and slipped two long fingers into Casey's exquisite depths, groaning with delight and devotion.
"So wet, so sweet..." Her thrusts were long and slow, almost torturous. Casey's hips rocked beneath her, finding their rhythm quickly, underscoring the melody played by the older woman's fingers with a pounding beat of adoration realized.
"Yes... Oh Liv, yes..."
Olivia lowered her mouth to capture one of Casey's pebbled nipples, suckling there as her fingers quickened their movements, delving further and deeper into the well of the young woman's need. Every moment inside Casey felt like nothing she could ever hope to describe in mere words. It was like forcibly evolving, like creating her own wings feather by feather out of nothing but skin, bone and blood. She felt dizzy with the enormity of the transformation and she laid her glistening forehead against Casey's heaving belly.
"Case...yes, Casey...for you..."
As the steel core of the young ADA coiled and writhed inside her, Olivia's wings continued to grow and unfurl, spreading as wide as the bowl of the sky outside their darkenend windows. When the symphony between them began to crescendo, Liv lifted her head, searching out her beautiful lover's singular gaze.
"Let me see you, honey... Need your eyes..."
Mesmerized by the request, Casey turned her glimmering emerald eyes to meet Olivia's passion-blackened ones. Caught in one another's wonder, there was simply nothing else. The air was thin at this height, threaded through with the sighs and cries of anguished joy, and yet they climbed higher and higher...until...
Olivia saw the pinnacle anchored in the verdant expanse below her.
"Let go," she breathed.
They trembled together at the apex of the moment for one heartbeat...two...then Casey cried out Olivia's name and the ground beneath them both gave way in a tumbling, roaring avalanche of desire fulfilled. Unwilling to let the younger woman fall without her, the astonished brunette unfolded her new wings and took flight with one powerful upstroke.
Together, they broke through the clouds into Heaven above them.
Interpersonal relationship doubt for Olivia Benson was usually about as subtle as a bull elephant crashing through the Kenyan underbrush. But tonight, with Casey Novak pillowed on her belly while she gently sifted red-gold silken strands through her fingers, doubt crept in with the shadows, like spiders navigating the cracks around a window casing.
Fear, simmering unnoticed in her belly, came to a boil almost before she realized what it was and she gasped with the sudden, insistent fluttering of her worried heart.
It won't work. It never does. I'll just fuck it up somehow and she'll end up hating me. I'll want it too much or I'll push her away--
"Mmmmm..." Casey awoke from her dozing and stretched languidly, like a hedonistic cat. "Liv..." She nibbled absently at Olivia's tanned ribcage, enjoying the quiver she felt beneath her lips. She purred with pleasure and lifted herself up to gaze into the older woman's eyes...and felt her smile disappear.
"You're brooding," she accused.
"I am?" Damn it. I guess it's a good thing I don't go undercover a lot.
Casey scowled for another minute, then shook her head tolerantly, a half-smile stealing back into her features. She leaned forward and kissed the detective, sighing heavily when she wasn't able to tease those soft, beautiful lips open.
"Liv, don't do this. It's not necessary. I mean it."
Frowning, Olivia looked away.
"I mean it, Olivia. I am exactly where I want to be and with whom." She almost laughed with the ridiculousness of the whole situation but she feared the hilarity would be lost on her dark-eyed lover at the moment. "Do you think I would throw away something so...so...wonderful just because you carry a little darkness with you? We all have something hard in our lives, Liv. Something that haunts us."
She cupped Olivia's cheek in her right hand and turned her, looking deeply into those beautiful russet eyes. "The trick is not shooting yourself in the foot before you're out of the gate." Casey looked up to the ceiling for a second, confused. "Er... Whatever. You get my point anyway."
Olivia blinked at the ADA and then laughed.
"You're crazy," she said, wrapping the redhead in her arms.
"Maybe." About you, definitely. "But I'm also right."
"And if I concede that point?"
Casey raised one eyebrow. "Then you're smarter than I thought you were," she snarked.
Olivia leaned over and covered Casey's lips with her own, kissing her thoroughly. Then she pulled away, her coffee-colored eyes sparkling in the dim light.
"Oh really? And if I told you I scored a perfect 1600 on my SATs?"
Casey made a show of contemplating that impressive assertion. "Then I'd say you were a better liar than I thought you were, too." When Olivia's eyes dipped down and to the left, she laughed. "Busted."
Olivia grinned and rolled with the redhead. "Isn't that my line?" she asked, nibbling along the edge of the ADA's jaw.
"I think you're only allowed to say that when you are wielding handcuffs, Detective." She waggled her eyebrows and gave Olivia a long, slow once over. "And unless you have a pocket in those flannels--which, by the way, need to come off--I'd say you're a pair of handcuffs short."
Olivia grinned mischievously then suddenly attacked, digging her fingers into the younger woman's side while pinning her hands between them. Casey, as ticklish as a two-year-old, shrieked with laughter. Unable to free her hands from Liv's strong grip and quickly losing her ability to breathe, she relied on the only thing she had in her favor: her size. Hooking her heels behind the older woman's knees, Casey pushed off the bed with her hips and flexed her spine.
Olivia watched the world spin with much the same surprise as she had earlier during the accident. When she found herself on her back, neatly pinned beneath the younger attorney, she almost gasped.
"How did you do that?"
Casey grinned. "An evolutionary survival technique caused by a phenomenon known as 'Older Brothers Who Tickle'."
The two women stared at one another as they tried to catch their breaths.
Casey licked her bottom lip.
Olivia moaned softly.
An electric buzz, like the sound of a thousand bees, hovered between them for one long moment and then their mouths crashed together, Casey diving just as Olivia rose.
"Need you, Liv," she breathed as her unstillable hands made short work of the flannels the detective still wore.
"Yes." The brunette lifted her hips off the bed to make it easier for the redhead. "God, yes..."
Hungered beyond the ability to be sated, Casey's mouth and hands became conquerors, paving the way for her world-changing need. She purpled the tender flesh next to the aureole of Olivia's right breast and reared back, her darkened emerald eyes looking upon the mark with pride, as if it were a flag of ownership.
Her fingertips fluttered over the detective's skin, leaving touches, like armies, to occupy the lowlands of Olivia's achingly perfect body. Her mouth strove for and captured the peaks of breast, belly, hip and navel, making them her own amidst the cries of the vanquished.
Armadas of sensation came aground, one after the other, on Olivia's shores and greeted the awed natives with a cacophony of strange new languages, songs like the voice of God, and the blinding light of the sun glinting off baubles of perfection.
Relentless in her voraciousness, Casey swept down Olivia's body and ensconced herself between her long thighs. She entwined her fingers with her lover's, took a deep, mouthwatering breath of the fragrant scent of Olivia's arousal, and stormed the Temple walls with her tongue and mouth and lips.
Olivia groaned, awash in flame, shivering and burning at the same time.
She fought surrender as long as she could, weathering the siege by will alone, until her hips rose and trembled with the strain. One second, two, and the Temple walls finally gave way, allowing her to cry out with exquisite release. Stunned and breathless, Olivia found herself joyfully enslaved to the woman who gently kissed her inner thighs and whispered soft, soothing words against the heated skin there, helping to bring her out of the dizzying spires she'd climbed, reaching for God.
"Casey..." Olivia's voice was replete with pleasure and sleepy delight. She pulled the young woman up into her arms and kissed her, tasting herself on those impossibly full, swollen lips like dark wine mulled with exotic spices.
Her earlier bravado now evaporated, the redhead nuzzled the velvety skin of Olivia's neck and cheek. "Was that okay?" she asked shyly. "Did I--"
Liv captured the younger woman's mouth in another searing kiss. "It was wonderful, honey. You were beautiful. Perfect." She brushed her lips over Casey's drooping eyelids and the healing cut under her eye. "Sleep now, okay? We could both use some rest after today."
Casey snickered drowsily. "Wuss," she said, yawning. Her breathing quickly became deeper and more even and then she was asleep.
Olivia smiled at the slumbering woman and kissed her forehead.
"Well, I hope you like wusses, Counselor," she whispered. "'Cuz you're stuck with me now."
Closing her eyes, Olivia followed Casey into sleep, a gentle smile still tinting her lips.
Sixteen hours later, Olivia Benson and Casey Novak were safely aboard their return flight to JFK without the infamous Rinaldo Feriglio. The paperwork had finally been corrected, Feriglio's lawyers had finally conceded the extradition, and the Cook County DA's office had finally signed off on it...only to have Feriglio shanked in the holding cell he'd been moved to in preparation for his transport the next morning.
Apparently he'd been a little too free with his opinions and had called a young Latino sharing the cell "a dirty wetback spic." He was dead before he hit the floor.
Without a reason to stay in the Windy City, Casey had managed to get their flights changed yet again, grousing that she was all too ready to get out of Chicago and back to a "normal" city.
Olivia shook her head and looked down at the redhead dozing comfortably on her shoulder.
No one got what they wanted this trip out, she thought ruefully.
Rinaldo Feriglio was still Cook County's problem, though admittedly an easier one to handle now that they only had to bury him.
The scumbag's lawyers lost a profitable client.
Branch had nothing to show for a fourth attempt at exacting justice against a notorious serial rapist except another set of travel expenses.
The rental car agency didn't get their silver Camry back in one piece.
Even Feriglio himself, presumably, hadn't wanted to end his life so...abruptly.
Casey shifted her position just a little and tightened her grip on Olivia's arm, mumbling something incoherent and then sighing in her sleep. Charmed, the brunette grinned at the ADA, then leaned over to kiss her on the head.
Well, maybe someone did get something they wanted, she amended, tightening her fingers around Casey's. She gazed at her lover for a long moment then turned her eyes to look out the window, watching the sparkling city lights pass beneath her as the plane passed over them.
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