read my lips (lost for words). law & order: special victims unit, alex/casey. things they will know about a motel pen. 200w, rated t. for
human_veil in
fandomgiftbox 2018.
She keeps the pen from the motel.
Later, Alex will look back on that as a beginning, of sorts, and it will mean so many things: Return. Rebellion. Recklessness. Reclamation.
An inconspicuous black pen from a generic motel, something that Alexandra Cabot, Manhattan District Attorney's Office, is allowed to keep; something that Emily Wilson, car insurance saleswoman, is allowed to own.
In the moment, though, it means less and more: Casey's fingers brushing against hers over and over again as they write notes for Alex's testimony, the most human contact she's had in far longer than bears thinking about.
The first promise of a future she's had in years, given to her by a woman with passion and promise who sees her, sees Alex, and wants to give her a life worth the name.
So she keeps the pen.
She keeps Casey's memory, and wonders if she'll ever see her again, in the future they're trying to build.
(Here is what Alex does not know: the next thing she will say to Casey is goodbye, after Casey fights too hard, in the wrong way.
Here is what Alex will know: She'll have to leave Casey the pen from the motel.)