Casey’s eyes are roaming the bar as she enters, not really looking for anything in particular. She’s bored and tired and lonely, and if she can find someone for a nice, slow fuck and a quick, easy morning goodbye, she’ll take it. But in Casey’s experience, finding such a person and not being totally put off by them is a miracle.

She’s also sort of checking the bar for any cops or ADAs who might report her actions to either the boss or the squad. As far as the boss goes, she’s not sure where they stand on the subject, but she heard that Southerlyn got fired because she was a lesbian. So Casey would rather they not find out. And as for the squad, she isn’t worried about them disapproving, but more about them caring too much. Olivia would kill her if she knew Casey was taking strangers into her house while inebriated and having sex with them. And Olivia is a good friend. But Casey knows what she’s doing isn’t particularly safe, and she’s chosen to ignore the risk.

Her eyes hang up on the sleek curves of a dark-haired, slender woman on a stool at the bar. The imposing aura surrounding the woman is palpable, and Casey wonders at the wisdom of speaking to her. She’s obviously not some shy married woman looking for her fix. The confident ones are always the hardest ones to get rid of in the morning.

But something makes Casey wander over, and as she slides onto the stool next to the woman, she turns to face Casey, and oh god, is she striking. Beautiful light olive skin, deep, dark chocolate, almost-black waves down to her shoulders, high cheekbones and the biggest, deepest, darkest brown eyes Casey has ever seen. “Hello,” she says, and Casey is momentarily struck dumb by the husky voice with a hint of an amused drawl.

“Hello,” she responds after a second, and blushes. The curse of the redhead. The thought makes her randomly consider the state of her hair. She lightened it recently, and she isn’t sure she likes it. But she does like the new haircut. It suits her better.

Somehow she doesn’t think that there’s much that could make this woman less than gorgeous.

“Screwdriver,” she manages to say. It might not be the most sophisticated drink, but it’s one she’s always liked, and she doesn’t trust her brain to remember which of the sophisticate-drinks she actually likes at the moment. It’s kind of been struck dumb.

“Abbie Carmichael,” the dark-haired goddess introduces herself, and Casey manages to pull herself together enough to summon a response.

“Casey Novak.”

“Hard day?” Abbie asks, not offering sympathy, just asking a question.

Casey takes a deep breath and nods. Better to get this out of the way fast, see if it drives her away. “Yeah. I work sex crimes-- it’s a hard job.”

Instead of one of the typical reactions, Casey watches as Abbie’s brow furrows. “Manhattan?” she asks.

Looking her over suspiciously, Casey nods slowly. Usually people are either appalled by what she does or titillated by it. She knows some of the detectives don’t tell their dates where they work right away, and when she’s looking for a one-night stand, she certainly doesn’t have to. But Casey’s never hid who she is, and she isn’t about to start with her job.

“You a detective?” Abbie asks, looking a little askance.

“The ADA for SVU,” Casey says, using the lingo since the woman seems to know what she’s talking about.

Abbie grins and holds out her hand. “Pleased to meet you. I’m the ADA before the ADA before you,” she says. “I covered SVU until they assigned Alex Cabot.”

“You’re that Abbie?” asks Casey, a little annoyed with her own memory for not remembering that the ADA before Cabot was named Abbie.

“What, they don’t talk about me?” Abbie asks teasingly.

Casey shakes her head. “No, no… they do. I just don’t think I’ve ever heard your full name,” she admits. “Olivia and Elliot call you Abbie, and the DA’s office people call you Carmichael. I never knew they were one and the same.”

Abbie laughs and shakes her head a little. Casey watches the lines of her face as she feels a slight shiver run through her. Good god, but the woman is beautiful. “Glad to hear I haven’t been forgotten.”

“No, Olivia talks about you all the time,” Casey says. “You and Alex both.”

A slight shadow crosses Abbie’s face. “Is she alright?” she asks.

“Olivia?”

“Alex.”

Casey’s heart tightens a little at the realization that she’s going to have to lie to this woman about Alex’s death. “She’s… dead, Abbie.”

Abbie just shakes her head, but not in the resolute denial that Casey had been expecting. “Cut the bullshit. I heard from a friend of a friend that you knew.”

Casey has to give her points-- she got her message across loud and clear without admitting she knew anything specific. She responds in kind. “I don’t know anything more than your friend does,” she says.

Abbie seems satisfied with this and nods. “And Olivia?”

“She’s okay.”

There’s a brief pause. Then Abbie speaks again, in a low, husky voice. “Got anyone?”

“Me or her?” Casey jokes.

Abbie grins again. “Both.”

Taking a swallow of her drink, Casey leans back slightly and smiles back. “You’re in luck. I’m free. And Olivia is too, since you wanted to know.”

Abbie runs a slender finger down the back of Casey’s hand and holds her eyes with smoldering dark pools of desire. “I’ll talk to Liv tomorrow. Tonight… I was looking for something a little different.”

“Me, too,” Casey admits. “Want to get out of here?”

One more swallow and Abbie’s drink is gone and she’s sliding off the barstool. “Just let me pay up,” she says.

Both women dig bills out of her purses and lay them in front of the bartender, then head towards the door. As they walk, Abbie moves into Casey’s body space a hairsbreadth more with every step, and by the time they reach the sidewalk, they are well within each other’s comfort zones. The buzz that ignites Casey’s skin when she’s excited has started gently at the point between her shoulder blades, and she shivers slightly.

Abbie grins knowingly, and runs a hand over almost the exact spot where Casey’s spine tingles, triggering more tiny shivers. “You’re easy, aren’t you?” she asks in such a gentle way that Casey knows what she means isn’t the way it sounds. “Easy to rev up.”

Casey closes her eyes and tilts her head a little to the side as Abbie’s wandering hand makes it to her neck to trace light patterns over the pulse points there. “It doesn’t always take a lot,” she admits.

Apparently, while she’s been distracted, Abbie’s been hailing a cab, and now it’s stopped in front of the women on the sidewalk, and is waiting for them. Abbie reluctantly disengages her hand and slides into the seat, gesturing for Casey to follow her. “Your place or mine?” she asks softly, and Casey scoots a little closer, trying to gauge her response.

“Mine,” she replies and absently gives the cabbie her address, watching for the flicker of the start of a freak out at the idea of outing themselves to the cabbie. She’s pretty sure it’s not an issue, since Abbie was touching her rather intimately on a public sidewalk and dared to hail a cab from right in front of the lesbian bar, but she likes this one, and she doesn’t want to scare her away.

Abbie gives no sign of being bothered, though, so Casey scoots closer until she’s right up against the other woman. Thick coats cushion their bodies from each other, still necessary in the March nights of New York City, but the touch revs the motor that Abbie awoke with that beautiful body and face and those tantalizing touches on the sidewalk. Smiling, Abbie takes one of Casey’s hand into her lap and begins to trace patterns on it with the tip of her index finger.

By the time they reach the front of Casey’s building, she is thoroughly ready. She pays the cab driver over Abbie’s token protest, and then walks them quickly up to her building. There’s a twinkle in Abbie’s eyes and a slight smirk of satisfaction on her face as Casey throws the door closed behind them and leans in to kiss her breathless.

The coats are discarded as hands start to roam, and then the suit jackets go. Casey thinks briefly about hanging it up, but discards it as a crazy thing to be thinking about when she has her hands on a woman as beautiful as Abbie. The suit jacket stays firmly on the floor as both women kick off their heels.

Down to just shirts and bottoms, Casey pulls away a little and takes Abbie’s hand. The dark-haired woman stays close, her hands roaming Casey’s torso and lightly cupping her breasts as Casey leads them to her bedroom.

Once they move into the room, Abbie’s light touching goes more forceful, and Casey surrenders as slender but strong hands pull her shirt up and away, and then remove her bra with hasty fingers. A quick flick of nimble fingers, and Casey groans, half in arousal and half in frustration, as Abbie’s hands leave her nipples and head for the zipper of her slacks.

Naked except for her underwear, Casey slides her hands up under Abbie’s shirt and skims the material along her skin and over her head and away. The black lace adorning Abbie’s breasts is a bit dressier than her convenient white cotton, but she makes quick work of helping it join the pile on the floor, and moving her fingers to the clasp on the edge of Abbie’s skirt.

Abbie pushes her own underwear from her hips and reaches for Casey, and Casey, her hands busy with the beautiful breasts adorning the beautiful woman in front of her, barely pays attention as she steps out of her last piece of clothing. She pays attention as Abbie slips her fingers down and presses, though. Her head goes back a little, and she gasps at the sudden pressure on her clit.

“Bed?” Abbie asks, and Casey nods, taking two steps backwards and letting herself fall where she knows the bed is. She spreads her legs and wonders momentarily how wanton the picture she makes is, but then she doesn’t care as Abbie settles herself on the mattress between them and reaches one hand up to stroke her.

The other hand goes to her breast, and then Abbie lowers her head to suckle on the neglected one. Fingers pressing and sliding dexterously and tongue lapping, Casey is overwhelmed with sensation, and bucks her hips once before letting out a short sound like a cross between a moan and a cry and convulsing hard.

Abbie’s fingers don’t fall away until she is still on the bed again, and when Casey opens her eyes, which she doesn’t realize she closed, she notices the other woman grinning down at her. “Hey,” she says, “You knew I got get worked up fast.” She takes another deep breath and then sits up. “Your turn.” She grins back.

Abbie opens her arms and tosses her head back a little. “Do your best,” she says, and Casey’s breath catches in her throat a little. She takes her up on the invitation, though, and moves one hand up to slide into those gorgeous chocolate locks, and the other around to explore the smooth expanse of Abbie’s back. Pulling Abbie close, she kisses her passionately and lets her hands start to wander.

Casey gives a little push to indicate what she wants, and Abbie lets herself fall back onto the bed. Casey’s head drops to explore the curves of Abbie’s breasts with her mouth, and as the hair tickles Abbie’s shoulders, she groans. Casey grins and licks a stripe right across one erect nipple, unsurprised to see Abbie’s back arch and her throat murmur a growl in response.

Letting her mouth slip away, Casey runs the fingers of one hand teasingly across Abbie’s belly while she circles outside the other nipple but never touches it. Abbie looks up at her and glares-- Casey grins back but allows her hand to creep lower.

When her fingers slip suddenly onto slick, wet flesh, Casey watches the shiver that goes through Abbie’s body, then the next as she rubs gently. Putting forefinger and thumb together on the other hand, she pinches Abbie’s nipple gently as she slides her fingers through the slick heat below.

Abbie’s head is tossing a little now, and Casey lowers her mouth to her neck, licking a little. Her body suddenly tensing, Abbie stills, and Casey lifts her head, frowning in bewilderment. “Is something wrong?” she asks.

Abbie shakes her head. “No. Just don’t… to my neck, okay?”

Casey is still frowning a little, but she nods slowly. “The rest of it’s good?” she asks, and Abbie smiles widely, bucking her hips into Casey’s fingers.

“Oh yeah, the rest of it’s really good.”

Casey puts her mouth to work on Abbie’s breasts instead, and starts to stroke her fingers again. It takes just a moment before Abbie is squirming under her touch again, and Casey speeds up her hand. Abbie starts to toss her head back and forth, and Casey watches as her muscles coil and her eyes squeeze shut. A wordless cry escapes her as she bucks up onto Casey’s fingers twice and shakes with the force of her orgasm.

Taking her fingers away slowly, Casey flops down on the bed beside Abbie and waits as her bed partner regains her senses. Dark eyes open slowly, and Casey grins. “Good?” she asks, knowing the answer, and a little cocky about it.

“You know it,” Abbie replies.

Casey settles down for the night, incredibly curious about the source of the “don’t touch my neck” thing, but working in sex crimes, she knows better than to ask. Besides, it’s not like she’s going to see this woman again.

---

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