Scraps - Restless Recovery

“Okay, I’ve got some water on the table here and your pills and…” Casey drawled before she held up a worn paperback novel with a dark skinned swordsman on the front, his face the picture of fierce determination, “something to get your mind off the pain.”

I looked up at her with nothing but gratitude, my pathetic eyes shining I’m sure, before saying, “You’re too good to me.”

“Maybe,” Casey replied with a cheeky smile before dropping a kiss to the bangs of my raven locks. “But I’m pretty fond of you, so it all evens out.” 

“Mm,” I hummed and smiled at her dreamily, “Kiss me,” I demanded and curled one finger for her to come closer.

Casey’s lips pulled up on the left side in her cockeyed grin that I loved before leaning close to my lips and pressing against mine softly. I hummed again and craned my neck up, begging for another. Casey chuckled under her breath and obliged with one, before brushing her nose against mine and dropping a final kiss to my lips.

“Oh, and just so you know,” Casey muttered, pulling back enough so I could see her soft brown eyes peering back into mine hypnotically. “I hid your laptop.”

“What?” I asked and blinked dumbly as my mind caught up with what Casey had just said.

“You heard me,” Casey remarked, and I swore I saw her holding back another stupid smile. “You’re not allowed to have it.”

I narrowed my eyes at her and pursed my lips. “And why, pray tell, can I not have it?”

“You’re healing. You don’t need to worry about work,” Casey pressed another kiss against my forehead, as if this made up for her treacherous actions she had just committed. She stood up with a shrug before placing her hand on my leg, which was covered in a plaster cast and propped up with a pillow on the couch. “Take a little time to just relax, Liv. You’re allowed to take a break.”

“What if I don’t want to?” I pouted and refused to look at my wife. It wasn’t one of those cute, playful pouts either. It was the, ‘you’re being sweet but I’m pissed and I still want my way’ kind of pout.

“Well,” Casey sucked in a big breath and then let it out in a sigh before popping her lips. “You’re just gonna have to suck it up, ‘cause it ain’t happening. Period.”

As Casey turned to walk off, probably toward the kitchen, I wailed dramatically, “I can’t believe it. Betrayed by my own wife.” 

This outburst was followed by a hearty chuckle from said wife before officially kicking off some of the most tedious and boring days of my damn life.

It had never occurred to me until the exact moment that I was unable to process through any of my ideas that I was a workaholic. I suppose it had never occured to me just how much my stories -- particularly those involving Detective Moat and Eleanore -- occupied my brain. Honestly, it was a wonder how I even tied my shoelaces in the morning, given the obsession I had in getting some words down.

Then again, this could have just been a reaction to Casey cutting me off from writing cold turkey. Never had there been a time where I couldn’t grab my PC and slam down a few notes or paragraphs that were on my mind. Or at the very least, jot it down on paper. Casey wasn’t even letting me have that, though. 

She knew me too well at this point.

I tried to guilt trip her into changing her mind about the laptop after a few painful hours on the first day. I figured that Casey could only put up with so many sad faces from me before she caved and gave me what I wanted. It wasn’t the first time I had underestimated my wife’s willpower regarding me -- and I’m sure it wouldn't be the last time, either.

“Keep pouting like that and I’ll put a paper bag over your head,” Casey commented as she sifted through various papers in the manilla envelopes spread across the table. 

They were probably about some case she was working on, but I didn't ask her about it. I knew it would only give me ideas for one of Moat’s adventures, which would make me more miserable than I already was. So instead, I let out a sigh through my nose along with a small whimper.

“You’re mean,” I grumbled and crossed my arms tightly across my chest.

“And you’re pathetic,” Casey said and looked up from her work to throw me a grin. “But I love you.” I knew she meant well, but to my agitated brain it sounded more like a taunt then an endearment. 

“I love you too…” I mumbled under my breath finally and dropped my chin to my chest, somehow managing to look even more pouty.

I couldn’t get her to break at all by the end of the night. To drive in the point of my irritation, I told her I would rather sleep on the couch than in bed with her. I saw the slight sting of rejection cross Casey’s face, but it was followed by a clipped, “Fine,” before she stuck her nose up and turned to the bedroom. In hindsight, my desire to stay on the couch probably came off more combative than petulant, but what could I really do about that. 

This was war. 

The next day I brought out a new tactic from my arsenal. If I couldn’t get her to give in to what I wanted through pathetic cuteness and guilt trips than I would go the opposite route. I would just have to annoy her until she handed me victory.

Every morning went about the same for Casey. She came into the kitchen, made a pot of coffee, let it sit for twenty minutes without touching it while she read the morning news on her phone, and then drank a cup with two pieces of dry toast. I had no idea why that’s what she did every morning, but it happened without fail since the day we had moved in together two years ago.

So, when Casey shuffled into the kitchen, freshly showered with still wet hair, I began my attack.

“Begin scene, Moat’s office. The room is organized to perfection, various pictures scattered along the desk show faces of a woman and child that he’ll never see again. Moat looks sad. He sighs.” I paused and glanced over at Casey, not quite looking at me but definitely giving me a bit of a side eyed glance. 

With a self satisfied smile, I continued to push forward. “Moat is thinking about Eleanore. He wonders if she could help him heal through his pain. Hm,” I hummed in thought. “Perhaps I could have an introspective paragraph of  his thoughts? Or maybe compare the two women that he’s loved, struggling to find a balance. Or, maybe… Hm… Let’s see…”

“Is this your artistic process?” Casey asked me from the bar, not even bothering to look up from her phone to do so.

“It is now,” I told her smugly and stared her down with narrowed eyes. “Why, is it bothering you?”

“Nope. In fact, I can bring you my tape recorder if you think it’ll help,” she offered nicely enough, a half-asleep smile painted on her face. I felt like this might have been an attempt to be sweet but it only served to make my even more frustrated.

“I’m fine, thanks,” I said through gritted teeth before letting out a breath through flared nostrils. 

“Suit yourself,” Casey said and came over to me to peck my cheek quickly. “I’ve gotta get dressed and split. Chief needed me to come in early and after work I have a meetup with Danno to discuss his transfer. Might be awhile, so don’t wait up on me.”

So I’ll be stuck here alone all day. There goes my chances of annoying her into submission. I sighed in defeat. Dammit.

“Fine,” I mumbled, my brows furrowed over troubled eyes. 

“Olivia?” Casey hesitated in her steps away from me before looking at me with a face of concern. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” I repeated in that same monotone voice, my tight jaw and thick brow both pointed toward the ground. 

Casey sighed and slipped her hand to the back of my neck to force my eyes up to look at her. “I love you,” she said softly and pressed a kiss to my lips before dropping her forehead to rest against mine. She lingered for a second and then with a sigh, turned around and out of sight down the hall.

Something dropped in my stomach the moment Casey rounded that corner away from me. I had been acting so silly and petty, throwing little tantrums in order to get my way when  Casey was just trying to take care of me. It made me feel pretty shitty, to be honest.

Somehow I kept it together until Casey walked out the door, my own muttered, ‘I love you,’ following her on her away. As soon as that door closed, however, things changed. Big, pitiful tears rolled down my face as I allowed myself to feel bad for how horrible I had been acting. Which soon turned into me feeling bad for throwing a pity party over the way I had been towards Casey over the last twenty four hours.

“You’re such a dick,” I muttered to myself through big, heaving sobs. “Your wife tries to take care of you and what do you do? You lash out on her like a fucking asshole.” I shook my head, getting more and more upset with myself over every passing second. “You don’t deserve how good she is, you stupid bitch.”

Another wracking sob passed through my body and I was sure I had transcended both my pity party and self induced whipping at the same time. Exhaustion slipped into my limbs and as much as I wanted to fight it, it soon had me fluttering my eyes in between blinking tears out. The imminent sad nap my body was running toward -- infused with the help of pain pills -- finally forced me to close my eyes and heave an exhausted sigh before I slipped out of consciousness.

When I came to again, Casey was on the other side of the couch, my legs in her lap. I breathed out a silent sigh of relief that she wasn’t kept out all night, as the precinct sometimes sent her out to do, and that she was back where she belonged with me. Of course, these thoughts were quickly followed by the memory of the emotional attack I had this morning, and my face transformed from excited to sad in a second

“Hey you,” Casey said softly and rubbed my foot gently in her hands. “How did you sleep?”

“Mm,” I hummed, refusing to look at her face in case she saw the stream of dried tears that caked my cheeks earlier. “Okay…”

“You’re probably not very tired…” Casey trailed off before she could get anywhere and then turned to me with that cockeyed grin I loved so much. “But I could use a cuddle buddy tonight. Interested?”

I lifted my chin to meet her honest, brown eyes and smiled myself, completely unable to help myself at the sight of her infectious grin. “Help me?” I asked, my voice small and a little coy as I met her warm eyes.

Casey stood up before abruptly turning to scoop me off the couch effortlessly. I gasped and clung to her shoulders tightly in surprise. This wasn’t the first time by any means, but having someone hoist me up so suddenly did get my eyes to go wide and my breath to catch in my chest, regardless of how many times Casey had done it before.

“Some warning would be nice,” I muttered as I buried my face into the crook of her neck, finding the rich, dark scent that Casey wore before inhaling it deep into my nostrils.

Casey chuckled, her rumbling chest shaking me up in her arms pleasantly. “Then I wouldn't get to listen to you gasp and watch you squirm and all that fun stuff.”

“Meanie,” I breathed against her neck, causing a shiver to run through Casey’s whole body. 

She growled in her throat and dropped me on the bed -- much closer to the mattress than she usually would, I noticed -- before meeting my eyes with a smug smile. “Sometimes, yeah.”

Casey turned to get ready for bed while I watched her move across the room, thinking about my feelings from earlier. You’re probably just a little crazy ‘cause of the meds, I assured myself with a shake of my head. Just apologize and be done with it. That’s all you gotta do, Olivia.

“Hey, Case?” I started, my voice low and my eyes reproachful.

Casey glanced over her shoulder to look at me with a questioning eyebrow cocked up. “Hm?”

“I’m, um… I’m sorry. I know I’ve been a lot the last few days.” I closed my eyes, took a ragged breath and then glanced at her even more pathetically. “Forgive me?”

Casey’s return smile was so beautiful it was damn near heartbreaking. “Of course. Every time.”

I breathed out a sigh of relief and smiled back at my wife, instantly feeling better now that I had that off my chest. “You coming to bed then?”

“One second,” Casey said and held up a finger for me, before she began to dig in the top shelf of the closet. A moment later she turned back to the bed, my laptop in hand, and offered it to me. “Here.”

“I thought I was supposed to rest,” I asked her, perplexed, as my hand stretched out to take the PC, regardless of the context I was getting it in.

Casey shrugged and slipped into bed next to me before she doused the lamp on her night stand. “I wasn’t able to sleep a wink last night without you clickity clacking beside me,” Casey mumbled and snuggled in closer to my side.

I let out a noise of adoration and grasped my heart before pressing a kiss to Casey’s temple. “Aw, you’re so hopeless without me!”

“Mmhmm,” Casey hummed, not even trying to argue the fact. “Just keep your process inside your head, okay? Don’t need to stir up any more trouble giving idiots ideas from your books.”

I suppressed the chuckle that wanted to bubble in my throat and instead, pressed another kiss to Casey’s head. A quick, amused, “Of course, dear,” fell from my lips before I sat back against the headboard and began typing. It wasn’t even a minute later that Casey was snoring softly into my side. 

I looked over at Casey’s still, slumbering figure and beamed with a wistful sigh from my lips. Oh, this woman. I would be hopeless without her.

***

AN: So, those were some of my new kids, Casey and Olivia. Their story is something I want to run as more of serial than a novel and this felt like a fun and appropriate way for y'all to get to know them. Casey is a homicide detective and Olivia is mystery romance novelist and their relationship is very much like dogs and cats in a lot of ways -- which is something I'll talk more on later regarding them. 

Anyways! This was a lot of fun to write and I hope that it was the same amount of joy for you to read.