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The Bar Ch. 01

By: Corvecoupe



Note: It was a bit of a struggle deciding which category to put this story into, strictly speaking at the moment its non-erotic in the sense there isn't any sex in this chapter (sorry!) but i decided Romance because there isn't a Legal Drama category!

This is an idea I've been toying with a lot lately and I've decided to post the first chapter online to see what you guys think! Enjoy!

*

I looked up from the computer screen and rubbed my eyes, I was finding it hard to read the words on the screen, a task only complicated by the heavy legal vocabulary and syntax. 'Coffee, that's what I need,' I glanced at my watch and was surprised to find it half three. No wonder I was weary I'd been at this for four hours without a break. 

I got up from my swivel chair and with an audible groan stretched my back, wincing at the sound of my vertebra cracking. I really needed to remember to make another appointment with the masseuse.

"Coffee?" Gwen asked, looking up at me from her adjacent cubicle. 



"Yeah, need a kick to get me through this,"

"Yeah what's the case?"

"Just breach of contract stuff, got to find some way that we can get rid of the contractor without paying him massive loss of profits, so I get to read through a dozen letters of intent, a five hundred page contract and about a thousand email correspondences to try and find one get out clause,"

"Eurgh, see why I hate contract stuff? Well if anybody can find it you can," She smiled and I couldn't help but melt slightly at the way her blonde curls framed her large green eyes and full red lips.

"Cheers, but I'd still take contracts over tax law any day," It was true, I'm a wiz at contracts and have made a small name for myself in the firm for being able to pick up on tiny details which could make or break the entire case. Gwen, on the other hand, was a genius at all things financial.

"It's not my fault numbers just make sense to me,"

"You should have been an accountant, you could have made a fortune on the sly," I couldn't help but let a yawn escape my lips. It'd been a long week and it was likely to be a long evening, "Fancy a coffee?"

"Thanks, and alas what could have been in another life." Gwen returned to her own desk as I shuffled off to the small kitchenette attached to the fondly nicknamed 'bullpen' for associate use. Kitchenette was a joke really, it was a four square meter room with a solitary window set high in the upper wall. 'Probably so we can't jump out of it,' I laughed to myself as I went about the laborious task of making two coffees.

"You, make a third?" I had a retort on my tongue ready to snap off but thankfully I'd turned around before letting my tongue run wild. I wasn't sure who the woman was who had ordered a third beverage but she most definitely was not an associate. For one she was about thirty-three, not old by any means but still far older than the youngest associate still in the bullpen, secondly I knew every single first year associate the firm hired and I had never seen this woman before.

"Certainly," I turned back to the machine and grabbed a third mug from the small pyramid the associates built on the draining rack next to the sink.

"Oh make it a disposable one would you?" 

"Sure," I was puzzled by this entire encounter. Why would this woman come to the associate break room and why would she want a take-away coffee when there was a perfectly decent coffee cart just outside the offices.

"There you are," the strange brunette greeted a third member to this small party.

"Yeah," an insolent reply.

"Oh Jesus Christ!" I nearly spilt the coffee he was hastily making at the sudden outburst, "Why the fuck can't you get it into your head how important this is?"

"Chill out,"

"I will most certainly not chill-the fuck out!" I was steadily pouring the three cups of coffee and really trying hard to appear part of the scenery by this point.

"Hey listen, I pay you remem..."

"No, your Daddy pays me large amounts of money to get you off and you aren't making my life any easier. You, give me your jacket." It took a couple of seconds before realizing that the strange brunette with clear anger issues had changed her attention to me.

"Sorry?" as i turned around i got my first glance at the third member of this very awkward conversation. I could tell instantly why the lady was so angry; the newcomer had brown disheveled hair which stuck out at all angles, deep bags beneath his eyes, a white and brown striped formal shirt which had clearly not seen an iron in several washes and a pair of crumpled black trousers. 

"You, jacket and tie. Now," the brunette rounded on me again, her gaze burning deep into my own.

"You want my jacket and tie?" 

"Yes, I, a junior partner, would like you, the first year associate, to take off your jacket and tie and give it to me."

"Oh right," I mumbled awkwardly, shrugging out of the jacket and passing it over to the poorly dressed man squeezed in the small space.

"Where are you from? England?"

"Hampshire," I answered, removing the tie clip that fastened the tie to my white oxford shirt.

"Wait a sec," the stranger instructed and I paused in loosening the knot around my kneck.

"Yes you might just do," she then turned to the third man in the room and instructed him to give back my jacket, which he did with a shrug and look of complete insolence. 

"Get dressed and follow me," with that she turned on her heel and opened the small door that separated the kitchenette from the bull pen and ushered the third man from the room, "Oh and grab that coffee, I think Jackson will be needing it."

I stood there, mouth agape, and trying to put two and two together.

"Come on," I was reprimanded by the stern woman and mentally kicked myself, half running out of the small room, still struggling into my jacket, to catch up with my new companions. 

I caught up to the apparent Jackson and his escort just as Jackson was struggling into Miller's jacket and tie. Miller was another first year associate and always struck me as a bit dim, he was still standing there trying to wonder why he was now in just his shirt sleeves with a naked collar as I rushed passed him. 

Miller shot me a quizzical look and I managed to shrug and pull a confused face before I was off and practically running to the elevator, I slipped in just as the doors were closing and stood panting next to the brunette and Jackson.

"What's your name," she asked, turning her stern gaze on me.

"Mark Roberts, miss?"

"Hmm, oh. You don't know me?" She seemed surprised by this and it was the first time she'd dropped the stern persona since I'd run into her.

"Um, sorry,"

"Right, well I'm Jenifer Alswel," she extended a hand and I clasped it warmly.

"And I'm Jackson, the client," the third occupant of the lift, apparently Jackson, piped up.

I was settled in the back of a yellow cab winding its way through traffic the fifteen blocks to the court house wondering just how I'd managed to get myself into this situation. Jenifer was upfront flicking through a sheaf of papers she'd unearthed from a black leather attaché and Jackson was sulkily staring out the window, pointedly not making communication with any of us. I felt my left breast pocket buzz and slipped my hand into my jacket to fish out the black iPhone nestled there.

FROM: Gwenivere Talstoy

SUBJECT: Coffee

MESSAGE: You discover Narnia or something?

FROM: Mark Roberts

SUBJET: Re Coffee

MESSAGE: Aslan says hello. You ever heard of Jenifer Aslwel?

FROM: Gwenivere Talstoy

SUBJECT: Re Coffee

MESSAGE: Yeah junior partner. Office on the 53rd floor. Specialization Criminal Defense. Why? and seriously: WHERE'S MY COFFEE!

FROM: Mark Roberts

SUBJECT: Re Coffee

MESSAGE: Cause I'm in a cab with her on my way to court... 

I hit send and stowed the phone in my pocket just as the cab pulled up at the curb of the downtown courthouse. I quickly got out as Jenifer slipped the driver a twenty and moved to open her door for her.

"Um Ms Alswel?" I asked as she thanked me and exited the cab.

"Yes?"

"Not to sound rude but, what do you want me for?"

"Hmm?" She mused allowed, studying my intensely for several seconds, "Well to be my second chair of course. You're looks and accent should hopefully make a good impression with the jury, and trust me we need all the help we can with this one." She indicated Jackson who was standing hands in pockets gazing with contempt at the court house.

"Oh right... thank you," but my gratification fell on deaf ears as she was already off, taking a bee line directly towards the courthouse. I trailed behind her and Jackson, wandering how on earth my day had taken such a strange turn of events.



The three of us pushed through the busy courtroom to the table that stood at the front. We took our seats and waited for the judge to return from recess. 

"Is this your first?" Jenifer asked me in a hushed voice, barely audible over the din of the courtroom.

"Yes, ma'am," I replied, trying not to bounce my knee with too much anxious energy.

"Right, well don't worry too much. You're pretty much here just to look pretty, oh and don't call me ma'am. Jenifer or Jenny will do fine."

"Oh, okay thanks Jenny. Um just wondering what's the case?"

"Aggravated Assault," Jenny responded, passing over a yellow legal pad and pen.

"Oh right," I barely had time to contemplate how my life had gone from sitting in a small cubicle doing grunt work to second chairing what appeared to be, judging by the many press in the place, a fairly large and publicized assault case.

"All rise, the honorable Judge Brown presiding" the bailiff called out and there was a clatter of as everybody took their feet. Judge Brown strolled into the courtroom, he had neatly combed silvery-grey hair, a close trimmed beard and a mammoth beer belly that was barely contained by his large flowing black robes of office. No sooner had he taken his seat then the rest of the courtroom took theirs too, a low murmur starting to spread across it, much to the annoy of the judge.

"Order!" He called out, loudly smacking the gavel once, "I said order! This courtroom will be run as orderly and smoothly as always or I shall eject the press and all you... onlookers," he spoke the last word with contempt.

"I have the greatest respect for the First Amendment but I will not hesitate to remove any individual if they make so much as a squeak from now on!"

The courtroom silenced immediately and the judged nodded in approval then spent a few minutes organizing papers on his desk. When he was apparently ready he nodded to the bailiff, who was leaning casually against the door.

"The court calls State verse Jackson," The man called out, still leaning against the wall and completely unphased by the Judge's display of temper. Jenny and Jackson took their feet, me following a couple of seconds later when I realized the prosecution was also at their feet. 'Dammit' I thought to myself, 'you know how a court is run, you've seen it dozens of times before,'

"Will Stroller for the prosecution your honour," A tall reedy man with slicked back brown hair in a pinstriped black suit called out from the other side of the room. The look, which made so many seem weasel-like and slimy, worked for the prosecution, he stood there as if he owned the room and seemed to have an air of command about him.

"Jennifer Alswell for the defense your honour," Jenny called out, her crimson hair a shocking contrast to the prosecutions but her stance no less commanding, she had an air which could so easily have come across as cocky on someone else, but instead came across as deep seated knowledge in the fact that you're the best and don't need to prove it, "Waive reading of the charges,"

"Mr. Zoller," Judge Brown turned to Jenny's, now our, client, "You understand the charges being pressed against you?"

"Yes your honor," Jackson had completely changed his manner, gone was the sulky insolent adolescent and in his place was a grown man who tried to command a similar air to Jenny or Mr. Stroller, except unlike Jenny he did come across as cocky. I didn't know the man well, okay I didn't know the man at all, but to me he gave off the presence of man who hadn't earned any of his power through hard work but rather had been spoon fed it.

"And how does the defense plea at this time?"

"Not guilty, your honor," Jenny called out from where she stood next to me.

"Alright, well then let's reconvene on the..." the Judge looked down at presumably a calendar on the desk before him, "the morning of the 23rd, two weeks from Tuesday, for opening arguments." He banged his gavel once and that was it. Jenny was on her feet and guiding Jackson out, almost forceably, by the crook of his arm.

I trailed a few steps behind, hurrying to catch up with the sudden departure. As we passed the line of press at the back there were a few comments called out to us, all of which were ignored by Jenny and Jackson, but that was nothing to the uproar and flash of cameras that greeted us as we pushed through the large double doors.

"What can you tell us so far about the case?" One journalist called out, holding up a dictaphone.

"How do you feel about going up against Mr. Stroller again?" Another called out.

"Are you worried your father's history will negatively impact your case?" A third called out. There were a dozen more that I couldn't hear but Jenny just pushed through them all, ignoring the blinding flashes and clammer of journalists.

"Idiots," Jenny muttered as we strolled down the steps of the courthouse, "The case hasn't even started we've only entered the plea, what the hell can they expect me to say?"

"Ma'am?" I asked, not sure if she wanted an opinion or just to vent.

"No that was rhetorical... and what did I tell you about calling me ma'am? Do I look fifty to you?"

"No ma- Jenny," I caught myself mid-sentence. Jenny hailed a cab and when it pulled up she popped the back door, practically pushing Jackson into it.

"Go home and for the love of god stay there," she half commanded half pleaded, "This thing doesn't start for another fortnight and the last thing I want is for you to do anything stupid that will make it any harder, okay?"

"Sure," Jackson replied, once again surly and insolent. Jenny slammed the door shut and thumped loudly twice on the roof, letting the cab pull out from the curb. I half waved at Jackson as he pulled away, but he either didn't notice or didn't care.

"Come on," Jenny sighed, "Let's get back to the firm." She hailed another cab and we both slid into the backseat this time.

"Jenny?" I asked, somewhat nervously, as she was staring out the window and I wasn't sure if she wanted to be left alone.

"Shoot," She commanded.

"Well, if that was only the preliminary hearing, why did you want me to come? The jury wasn't there and it wasn't exactly as if there were any developments that needed a second opion..."

"You're right, the jury wasn't there and even you could have handled it, but the press was there," when she saw the look of puzzlement upon my face she continued, "Okay, so if you didn't notice this is going to be a fairly largely publicized case, and while the jury wasn't there the press was. I don't want them asking in a couple of weeks why you have suddenly appeared at the table, I don't want them accusing us of putting a young attractive face at the table just to endear us with the jury."

"Oh right," I said then paused, deciding whether or not to continue, "Isn't that what we're doing though?"

"Yes," Jenny replied with a sly grin, "But I don't want them to know that's what we're doing!" She burst out into laughter which only confused me more. Here she was, a powerful, and judging by her position, undeniably good lawyer in the inner city who apparently had a sense of humor... oh and she was hot too. Did I mention that?

"Right," I laughed, joining in with her, "But what does it matter if the jury starts to ask those questions? Aren't the Jury supposed to be impartial and cut off from the press?"

"Christ you really are a virgin aren't you?" She asked, but still with a smile, "That's what a Jury is supposed to do but, let's face it, the trial may well go on for weeks, you don't think a single one of them isn't going to overhear in the court or catch one glimpse of a newspaper in that time?"

"I guess not," I responded, feeling only slightly stupid by my question, "Can I ask one more thing?"

"Sure you can," She responded, "Ask away young padawan,"

"Why did you pick me as second chair? It seemed really spur of the moment? Don't you want someone who could better serve you? One of the junior partners?"

"You're right I guess it was a bit spur of the moment, I probably should have thought about it," she stopped, her forehead crinkled in thought, "Okay, you're off the case, I should get someone with more experience."

My face fell, I knew she was right but still it was a bit of a letdown, my first real case and I had to open my big mouth.

"Got cha!" She responded, a big grin plastered all over her face, "Wow you really gotta take it easy." She punched me jovially on the shoulder before turning somber again.

"No but seriously," Her grin diminished but there was still a hint of it playing across her face, "First of all, I don't think you're an idiot, if you were you'd never been hired. Secondly, I don't play well with others, if I got one of the other junior partners on board I'd have to pretend to be nice to them."

"And you can just tell me to f off and there's nothing I can do about it?" It was out of my mouth before I realized, the second it was out I felt as if I wanted to die. 'The cab's not going that fast, I could probably jump out and survive, maybe only get run over once or twice...'.

"Ha! Exactly!" Jenny didn't seem to mind at all by my back chat, "See, you chill out a bit more an I think we'll get along fine."

I could hardly believe my luck, any other partner would likely have thrown me out of the cab shortly after firing my ass, but apparently not Jenny. I was starting to sus her out and I wasn't entirely displeased. 

We spent the remainder of the cab ride making idle chit chat, she asked questions about my background: where I went to college (Yale), what brought me to the US (once again Yale), where I was living (Brooklyn), favorite movie (Casablanca), if I had a girlfriend (no) and a dozen other questions.

I, in turn, managed to get a couple of questions of my own in as well: where she went to college (Harvard), where she lives (W71st and 8th... sickening), whether or not she had a boyfriend/husband (none of my business) and another dozen questions that slowly built up my knowledge of her.

When the cab finally pulled up out the front of the office, we exited and made our way through the lobby of the large skyscraper, swiping through the security with our electronic passes. As we entered the lift I hit the 50th floor and she hit the 52nd.

"So," I asked, as the lift started to ascend, "What do I do now?"

"Don't you have work to do?"

"Oh yeah, I guess," I responded, coming to the conclusion that maybe I would be just a pretty face after all.

"Relax," She said, "Come by my office tomorrow at nine and I'll brief you on the case, we'll go over a plan of attack and I'll dump so much work on you, you'll wish you had died." The elevator dinged and the doors opened at the fiftieth floor.

"Last chance to back out," Jennifer offered, holding the door open button for me.

"Not a chance," I responded, grinning stupidly at her.

"Good," She responded letting go of the button, calling out one last piece of advice before the doors close, "My advice is to finish up all urgent work tonight, you won't have a chance to breath after tonight."


The Bar Ch. 01



***

I got back to the cubicles excited and barely able to contain myself, I felt like skipping. 'My first case! With a junior partner to boot!'

"So," Gwen asked, as I shuffled back to my cubicle and collapsed on my chair, "how was court?"

"Good," I replied, as she entered my cubicle and perched upon the corner of the desk.

"You slay 'em slugger?"

"You know it, the big NG, I got up there and strutted my stuff like a pro!"

"More like tripped over your shoelaces and got the pity verdict,"

"Ye of little faith,"

"Me of a lot of experience; but seriously how was it?"

"Just a preliminary hearing- hey you ever heard of a guy called Jackson?"

"You got more than that? Like I dunno, a last name? Although there was this Jackson from law school..."

"Zoller. Jackson Zoller,"

"Zoller, Zoller..." she rolled the word around her mouth as if tasting it, "Isn't that the guy who owns BizTeque?"

"That's right!" BizTeque was one of the largest software companies in the state, hell the country even, it made something to do with computer chips... processors? I pretty much knew how to turn on a computer and find the porn, not too much more.

"Why?"

"He's the client, not the guy who founded BizTeque but his son, Jackson,"

"Wow," She looked suitably impressed, "and you're second chairing? Well, all I can say is don't fuck up,"

"Cheers, thanks for the vote of confidence; now piss off, I need to finish up this case before tomorrow."

"Yeah good luck," she thumped me on the back once before returning back to her cubicle.

***

It wasn't nine o'clock, nearly five hours later, before I looked up from my work. Okay I definitely needed coffee. I stood up, cracked my back audibly and glanced over at Gwen.

"You want a cup of coffee?" I asked, trying hard to suppress a yawn.

"Nah, I'm done for the day," she clicked save and pushed her chair back triumphantly, "Another rich client successfully saved from paying taxes."

"The penance we pay for selling our souls," I replied sagely.

"Yeah, well who knows, in a couple of years time we might be the ones who are borderline defrauding the tax man,"

"Ahh, a better tomorrow," I mocked, staring off into the distance... or pretending to, actually staring at an extremely ugly canvas painting that dominated one of the walls of the bull pen. Whether the array of colors in nonsensical order were put there to try and instill us with intrinsic existential thoughts or to motivate us to work hard and get the hell out of here I didn't know.

"Yeah, well for today I'm heading down to the bar," she logged off the computer and stood up, slinging her jacket over her shoulders, "You want to come?"

"Nah, I've still got a couple hundred pages to trawl through, if I'm lucky," I replied, making my way to the kitchenette, "Have a drink for me?"

"Will do," she replied, "meet us later?"

"Yeah, if I can knock this one out of the park."

The coffee did me good, the black bitter liquid was piping hot and I had added enough sugar to give me enough of a high to slip my brain back into gear. 

It was two hours later when I finally found my eureka moment, I jumped up from my desk, hitting my knee against the side of it, and punched the air victoriously!

"I am invincible!" I called out in a heavy Russian accent.

"Borris?" Mickey called out from where he sat at his own desk, apparently still in the office.

"Uh yeah," I responded sheepishly, I had honestly thought I was the last one at the office.

"Any reason for your goldeneye impersonations?"

"Convenience clauses are a wonderful things!" I responded, a look of joy plastered all over my face.

"Yeah so is the Russian women's gymnastic Olympics team," he responded, "what's your point?"

"Well after trawling through hundreds of emails it appears the contractor has only been on sight for like four days a week on average,"

"Yeah, so?"

"Well, that in itself isn't enough to get rid of him since it isn't long enough to issue him with a warning, but in conjunction with his inability to hire enough cranes, get the roads blocked off, get the supplies on time, it would be more convenient for us to go with another client. Now the clause is worded such that we can't just get rid of him, but in conjunction with-"

"Okay, okay," Mickey held up his hands placating me, "I get it... invincible and all that. Well congrats?"

"Cheers," I responded, sitting back down and shooting off an email to Clint Wiedman, the oversees of the first years, detailing my results.

"Well I'm outta here!" I announced as I got up and shrugged on my jacket and satchel. I reached into my pocket and pulled out my phone, unlocking it and calling up the message app, shooting Gwen a text.

FROM: Mark Roberts

SUBJECT: Bar

MESSAGE: Still at the Fat Dog? I need a drink or 2.

Barely five seconds after I hit send she responded.

FROM: Gwenivere Talstoy

SUBJECT: Re Bar

MESSAGE: Damn straight! Get your ass down here ADAP!

FROM: Mark Roberts

SUBJECT: Re Bar

MESSAGE: ADAP? Don't you mean ASAP? ;p

FROM: Gwenivere Talstoy

SUBJECT: Re Bar

MESSAGE: Auto-correct

FROM: Mark Roberts

SUBJET: Re Bar

MESSAGE: Uh huh, sure it's not drunk-text? See you in a few.

FROM: Gwenivere Talstoy

SUBJET: Re Bar

MESSAGE: I'll get you a drink

I slipped the phone back in the pocket and hit the down button the elevator, looking forward to a hard stiff drink after the strange day I'd had. 



The Fat Dog is a great little bar about a block and a half away from the office. The entrance is down a flight of concrete stairs at the start of a side alley just of the street, the only thing that indicates it's there is a neon red sign of a newspaper. 

Strictly speaking, Fat Dog isn't even the real bar's name, it is technically called Catalogue, the original establishers thought it would be a bar for journo's and the like, but strangely they never found the dark underground gin joint particularly enticing.

Then one night, just as the owners were thinking of pulling out and cutting their losses, a lawyer, on a high after winning his first case, was walking buy and saw one of the few patrons of Catalogue exit. On a whim, the guy entered the bar and ordered a martini. He was so impressed that he asked the bartender the name of the place; the bartender's, Larry's, reply was drowned out by the saxophonist playing in a dark corner.

The lawyer then proceeded to call his colleagues and told them to get down to the Fat Dog ASAP. Well, the lawyer's colleagues were just as taken with the joint and the next night they brought their friends, soon the place became a regular joint for the lawyer's colleagues and their friends.

This breath of fresh life that took the bar from a near complete failure to a new and hip place so inspired the owners they unofficially renamed it the Fat Dog. Well, that lawyer was Harry Adams, the man who would go on to found Adams and Colman, the firm at which I know worked.

I pushed through the large door and nodded to Larry, still working behind the bar after all these years.

"Mark!" Gwen called out, standing up and rushing unsteadily towards me, "You finally got here!"

"Yeah, strangely enough they tend to frown over drinking at the office," I remarked sarcastically, grabbing her around the waist to stop her from falling over.

"You work too hard!" Her voice was slightly slurred but that wasn't the biggest indicator she'd had a bit too much to drink, the way she was softly pawing at my chest was.

"Okay there boozy, the eighth dwarf," I said slowly, gently prying her hands off of me and releasing her from my grasp, only keeping a solid hand at the small of her back to guide her back to the bar.

"Well at least I'm not... crabby the ninth dwarf!"

"Nice, very original. And technically speaking crabby is the same as grumpy, the second dwarf,"

"Know it all. Who are you anyway? Walt Disney?"



"Brothers Grimm,"

"What?"

"The Brothers Grimm came up with it, not Walt Disney, he only made the loveable cartoon,"

"Shut up and have a drink!" We made our way over to Harry, Dale and Wil, other first year associates who were crowded over a small table.

"Hey man," Harry greeted, patting me on the back as I sat down, after depositing Gwen in the chair next to mine.

"Congrats you lucky mother-" thankfully before Dale could finish the sentence Wil cut him off.

"Well done cutie," Wilma was perhaps one of the sweetest people I knew and had no place in the soul sucking profession that we called our own. She stood at only about five foot one with a short bob of brown hair and a pair wire framed glasses that were always slipping down her nose, not exactly the fiercest figure in a courtroom, but nobody could research better than her. When the partners needed a win on a case they came to her; hell it should have been her in court today not me.

"Cheers you guys," I thanked them and could barely suppress a grin.

"Get this down you big fella," Dale commanded as he slid a drink across the table.

"Cheers," I said again and took a big gulp of the drink, regretting it almost immediately, "What the hell is that!" I spluttered, trying not to spit it out all over my friends.

"A cherry popper," Hary said as the others burst out in laughter.

"Or, what Larry thinks is a cherry popper," Dale clarified, clapping me on the back.

"You know, 'cause your first case and all that," Gwen admitted, surreptitiously slipping her hand onto my thigh.

"Well, as much as I thank you for the sentiment," I said pushing the drink back across the table and just as subtly sliding Gwen's hand off my thigh, "I need something a whole lot better and a whole lot stronger."

I stood up from the table and made my way over to the bar, reaching into my back pocket and slipping out my black leather wallet. 

"Mark," Larry greeted as he sidled over, grabbing tumbler off the rack as he made his way over.

"Ah Larry you know me too well," I said, smiling at the glass he popped down on the counter.

"Mate, it's been nine months and in that time you've had at least one scotch every night," Larry was born and bred in New York but he'd taken a fondness to my English vernacular, "I'd be a pretty crappy barman if I didn't know what you were going to order on the most important night of your career so far,"

"Calm down there Mrs Bennet," I responded, "It was just a preliminary hearing, it's not exactly as if it's a big Daniel Kaffee moment or anything, I pretty much sat there and looked pretty,"

"Daniel who?" 

"Kaffee? Daniel Kaffee?" I was dismayed by the look of confusion still on his face, "You know, who Tom Cruise plays in 'A Few Good Men'?"

"Oh, I think I've heard of that, isn't that the one where he does the whole: Show me the money! routine?"

"No... that's Jerry Maguire..." I tried not to sound horribly insulting but still- come on! "A Few Good Men is: You don't want the truth, because deep down in places you don't talk about at parties, you want me on that wall! You need me on that wall!"

"Right..." Larry responded, clearly still no more enlightened, "you want a drink or not?"

"Yeah, we'll leave the popular culture lesson for another time," I responded, checking out the rows of scotch they kept behind the bar on a high shelf with dim lighting illuminating their dusty labels, "how about the... hmm... Aberlour 21,"

"An excellent choice, sir" Larry mocked, grabbing the bottle from the top of the shelf and pouring a measure that was a great deal larger than a standard drink, "For your first day in the courtroom, even if you were just looking pretty." He winked and pushed the glass towards me, waving away the twenty I held out.

"Thanks mate," I grinned back at him, but instead of slipping the twenty back in my wallet I threw it in the brandy glass that served as a tip jar.

"Our glorious hero returns," Harry greeted as I sat back down, sipping from the peaty, smoky drink.

"Guys, seriously, I didn't do anything," I placated yet again.

"Still you made it there before any of us," Dale replied.

"Listen, I got called up because I have an English accent and a pretty face," I told them emphatically for what felt like the umpteenth time.

"Oh come one, tell us all about it!" Wil asked, leaning in.

"Fine. I went in, Jenny waived the reading of the-"

"Who?" Dale cut in

"Jennifer Alswel, one of the junior partners," I explained.

"Oh Alswel, she's on the 52nd right? I've work for her before I think," of course Wilma would have worked for her; I felt mildly bad at beating Gwen and Dale to the courtroom, Harry honestly wasn't cut out for it yet, but I felt really bad for getting there before Wilma, she earned a seat at the table months ago.

"Yeah that's her," I admitted.

"But you call her Jenny?" Dale clarified.

"She... told me to,"

"Rawr," Harry growled.

"What?" Wilma, Dale and myself questioned together.

"You know... rawr." He repeated, then at the looks we were giving him continued, "Cougar?"

"Oh yeah!" Harry joined in, a giant grin spreading over her face.

"You guys want to hear about it or not?" I asked, playing the only card I had in my hand to get them off this topic, "So Jennifer waived the reading of the charges, we entered a non-guilty plea and the case was set to start on the 23rd."

"Yeah, not too interesting," Gwen broke in, swaying slightly in her seat.

"What's the case?" Wil asked, eyes alight with intrigue.

"Not too sure, something to do with aggravated assault," I responded, not sure how far exactly confidentiality extended, sure these guys were part of my firm but maybe Jenny didn't want me blabbing all about it, "Anyway, what's your week looking like?"

That did the trick, the subject quickly changed and I let Dale launch into another one of his long tales, which more often than not seemed to miss all point. They were a bit of a legend around the office, stories which would keep you on edge waiting for the climax but more often than not ended lamely with: and then I went home.

During Dale's regaling, I took a second to take check on Gwen. I wasn't sure how much she'd had to drink but she seemed to be struggling, her eyes slightly glassy and occasionally she missed the table when she went to put her elbow on it.

"You okay?" I whispered in her ear after knocking back the remainder of my scotch.

"Yesh, jusht fine," She slurred, finding it hard to keep my eye.

"Uh huh, sure, well you have to work in, oh" I glanced at my watch, "fuck nine hours. Come on, I'm taking you home."

"Guys," I announced to the group, interrupting Dales pointless story much to his dismay, "I'm going to call it quits and I think Gwen is to, I'll put her in a cab. See you all tomorrow?"

"Oooh the big man can't even have a drink after work anymore? Too important for us?" Harry joked.

"Well you know, I've got to meet with a junior associate in the morning, you know what that's like... oh hang on a sec, I guess you don't." I said, smiling to lessen the blow.

"You wound me kind sir," Harry retaliated with a false over the top English accent. Dale and Wilma bid their own goodnights. I shrugged into my jacket that was hanging on the back of the chair before helping Gwen up from her own chair.

We walked somewhat unsteadily to the exit, waving at Larry on our way out. The cool air that hit us as we exited sobered me up from any effects I'd been feeling instantly, but Gwen only pressed herself tighter into me and shivered.

"Thanks Mark, you're a good guy," She dopily mumbled, letting me half carry her up the stairs and down the alley to the street.

"Don't I know it," I responded, waiving down a cab that was coming down the busy metropolitan avenue.

"You know," She responded dulcetly, twisting around so she was face to face with me, "you could always make sure I get inside my apartment alright... instead of just putting me in a cab,"

"Yeah, but then I'd have to catch the subway home, and I don't feel much like getting stabbed tonight," I jovially retaliated, gently chucking her below the chin with my index finger.

"I have a big bed," her hand was on my chest again and it felt as if her fingers were feeding a direct current to my chest.

"Goodnight Gwen," I took all my willpower to refuse her invitation and I knew if I was as drunk as she was there was no way I wouldn't be jumping in the cab with her. I popped open the door and helped her slide into the back seat.

I leant down, slipping my head into the interior intending to say something along the lines of: see you tomorrow, when her lips suddenly leapt forward and pressed firmly against my own. Well, if her fingers sent sparks through my body, her lips made me feel as if I'd just been hooked up to the mains. 

Our kiss was warm and soft and she 

tasted like strawberries and chocolate. I could feel a reaction down south and I knew that if I didn't break off this kiss now then I'd be in the cab with her and we'd be doing something stupid tonight.

"Ah, Gwen," I moaned, breaking the kiss and ducking back outside the cab, hoping the cool wind calmed me down and put me back in a sensible mindset, "You are a wicked, wicked girl. Text me when you get home."

I shut the rear door and slipped the driver thirty bucks, double what it should cost to get her home, telling him to make sure she got in safe. 

***

Final Note:

Hey, so thanks for reading to the end! Sorry it is a bit tame, but like i said it's more to test the waters and see what you think! Is it worth continuing with?

Also i haven't sorted out all the details with the case (which will feature prominently throughout the story) so let me know if you have any ideas about what you think Jackson did! 

Please please please comment! Even if it's just to say let it die and hang yourself out of shame for writing such utter crap!



The Bar Ch. 02



After leaving the bar that night we decided that one time just wasn't going to be enough for us. We had to have more of each other, all night, without any thing to get in our way. So you had me follow you to a hotel that was nearby the bar. It wasn't anything fancy, but it was affordable, and we figured that for getting nasty with each other, it did the trick. We checked in and got ourselves a room with a king size bed….nice and big for our long night of fucking. 

Once we got up to the room, you opened the door, and after I walked in you closed it behind me. I turned around to look at you, and just like that our lips met each other and we were embraced in one of the most passionate kisses ever. Our tongues intertwining with each other, hands roaming all over one another's body. Your hands grasping my ass, pulling me closer into you, feelings your cock growing harder with every kiss. Before we continue any further, I excuse myself to go into the bathroom to freshen up a bit, even though I know this will be a very long night for both of us! After going in the bathroom and removing most of my clothing, I come out wearing nothing but a black lace bra, matching garter belt, and black silk stockings. I walk out and look at you, only to see you sitting in a chair, shirt off, pants off, and your glorious cock standing at attention, shining in the light from the precum already on it. 

I smile at you and ask, "Do you like what you see?" 

You look back at me and say, "Yes I do, and I want all of it here tonight." 

With that, I walk over to you, lean forward and kiss you and begin to straddle your lap. I slower start to lower myself down on top of your throbbing cock…..getting just close enough that you can feel how hot and wet my pussy is, without even having to touch it. While I continue to lower myself down on you, you take my tits out of my bra, and start to play with my nipples. Taking each one in your mouth separately, running your tongue around them, making them nice and hard. Biting down on them hard enough that I flinch in pain, but yet it feels so good, I beg for more. 

"Oh God Kevin, don't stop, keep sucking them." 

And just like that, I lower myself all the way onto your cock, feeling it fill me up completely, and tightening up my pussy just to make sure that you can feel it inside of me. MMMM you feel so good, I can't wait to start fucking you hard, riding you like I was a dirty little cowgirl! 

The look on your face when I put all of your cock inside me was that of pure excitement. I could tell that you were enjoying being in me as much as I was enjoying the way you felt there. After just sitting there for a minute, I start to rock back and for on your lap, grinding my hips deep onto your lap, making sure I can feel every inch of you all through me. I start to grind harder on your lap, eventually starting to bounce up and down on your lap taking every inch of you in and out of me. Screaming in pleasure each time I plunge myself back down onto your cock. 

"MMMMM Kevin, I love the way you feel inside of me, fuck me harder!" 

With that you kiss me hard and deep, take me off of you, and bend me over the chair you were just sitting in. My pussy is dripping wet with my own juices and your precum, but I want you to make it wetter….I want you to make me cum all night long. 

Being bent over the chair, I had it going through my head that you were going to nail me from behind but I was wrong. Before I could realize what was happening, you were laying on the floor asking me to sit on your face. You kept telling me you wanted to know what I tasted like and that you wanted me to cum on your face. With pleasure, I slowly lowered my dripping pussy right down onto your tongue. Oh god it felt so good! Feeling my juices drip out of me and knowing they were going all over your face felt amazing….feeling your tongue run over my clit and then go deep inside me was enough to put me over the edge and like that I started cumming. 

"Oh yea I'm cumming baby, don't stop, don't stop, I'm gonna cum all over your face." 

When I finished cumming, I stood up and so did you. You looked me right in the eye and then leaned in to kiss me, being sure to give me all of your tongue, making sure that I could taste all of me on your lips and tongue. Mmmmm I tasted so good in your mouth, but that was just the start of what was to cum that night! 

As the night went on we spent the majority of the time fucking each other like crazy. Every position and place you could think of, we were doing it. Table tops, chairs, beds, floors, it didn't matter as long as we could have one another, we were happy. When we weren't fucking we were usually playing with each other in some way, kissing, touching, even a little cuddling. After a few hours, I was so covered in cum that I figured it was probably best if I took a shower, but I wanted you to join me, I thought it would be hot for us to be in the shower together…happily you agreed! 

Once the water got to just the right temperature we both got in and stood under the water. God, I just had to kiss you. It felt so much like being in the rain with you, and I knew that I couldn't let this opportunity pass. I looked into your eyes, leaned forward and our lips met. It was so erotic. The feeling of our naked bodies pressed against each other, our hands caressing each others' bodies, our lips and tongues meshed together….it was too much for both of us, we knew we had to have each other right there. 

I leaned up and whispered in your ear, "I want you to fuck me in the ass, right here." 

I looked at you, waiting for your response, and when the smile came across your face, I knew that you were up for it too, and looking down I saw that you were "up" for it!!! Just like that, I turned around, put my hands on the wall in front of me, and leaned forward. I could feel your hand reach down to my ass and start to massage it, first sticking one finger, then two inside my asshole, getting it nice and stretched out for your cock. Oh it felt so good; I couldn't wait to have you deep inside of me, feeling your balls slap up against my pussy. I could feel you rubbing the head of your cock around my ass and very gently you pressed it against me. I jumped a little, but I took all of you inside me with ease. 

Feeling you inside was amazing, my ass was so tight and I could feel every single inch of it grip you and pull you inside me. 

"Oh baby, yes it feels so good, I want you to fuck me now, and fuck me hard!" 

I felt you grab onto my hips and start thrusting hard into me. Pulling your cock all the way out, only to slam it back in with each of your thrusts. Moaning and screaming was coming out of my mouth it felt so good, I couldn't help it. I knew that you were going to make me cum this way, harder then I'd come in a long time, and I wanted you to cum too. I asked you to go faster and harder, and with each hard thrust you started to smack my ass and I loved the way it felt. I felt like such a dirty porn star, being in the shower, having the hot water run over my body while you were fucking me like crazy in the ass, pulling my hair back at same time, or reaching around to play with my nipples. I couldn't take it anymore, I was going to cum, I had to cum. 

"Oh yeah, I'm cumming, I'm gonna cum right now for you."

"Cum for me sweetie, cum in my ass." 

God I wanted you to blow your hot load in my ass so bad, I wanted to feel it squirt into me, and then run out of my ass. When I started to cum, I tightened my ass around your cock and the tightness was too much for you, and you came right there in my ass. MMMMMM I could feel your big, hot load squirt deep into my asshole, at the same time I was cumming, it felt so good. I turned around to face you and look at your face.

I whispered in your ear again, "Did you like that?" 

You looked at me, kissed me and said, "God yes, it was amazing!" 

I smiled back and said "Good, it felt amazing for me too!" 

Once we finished getting cleaned up, we retreated to the bed, and cuddled with each other. Naked bodies pressed against each other, with our arms around each other. It was a nice feeling. We would fall asleep this way, only to wake up in the morning for more fun, fun that neither one of us would ever forget!!!!!!



The Bar Ch. 02



Authors note: Okay so first I apologize for the long forward. I'd like to start by all thanking all of you for the comments you made, the votes you submitted and for just generally reading part one! It was a lot easier writing chapter two knowing you wanted more! (on that note i advise you read chapter 1)

Like before, it is a bit slow but it does pay off at the end!

Okay so something that should be noted for consistency: I was watching tv at 1:47 am the other night and a stroke of clarification hit me. The plot seemed to unfold before me and I have made a few minor changes (don't worry they're all for good!) the only thing that really needs be noted is that before case was set as being aggravated assault, however, I have since changed the charges to rape.

I should note, that this story will in no way whatsoever sexual the charge. Rape is a despicable crime and I will not degrade myself, yourselves, or anybody who has suffered at the hands of a sexual abuse (if you want that stuff go to that section of the site) I won't however hold back on the intimate moments between two consenting adults (see end of chapter!) :) Hope you enjoy! 

*

The morning came far too quickly. I rolled over and hit snooze on the cheap alarm clock that I'd picked up for $10 at Target, wishing I could steal an extra half an hour.

"It's your own stupid fault," I mumbled as I stumbled half blind into the shower, letting the hot water splash over my body and inject some life into me, "you could have been an engineer, or a teacher, or taken a cushy job at Shell in their contracts department even; but no you have to be the big shot and sign up for some law firm in New York City."

I spent five minutes in front of the mirror, which was two minutes longer than I should have, determined to look perfect and not give Jennifer a single reason to dump me out of the case now. To this end, I decided upon a light charcoal grey suit complete with a checkered sky blue silk tie.

I grabbed my leather satchel on my way out the door, swinging the strap over my head so it crisscrossed my chest. It was a two minute walk from my flat to the subway and then a twenty minute ride to the station closest to work then another five minute walk, all in all a long time to think- and think I did.

I couldn't shake Gwen out of my mind the entire trip; the kiss from last night still haunted me. She was a friend and a colleague, true she was gorgeous beyond belief and never failed to make me laugh; but any fraternization would be the ultimate act of stupidity! Still there was that kiss...

***

I sat at my small cubicle flipping through the manila folder, my head spinning. The brief was over five hundred pages and that didn't include the several boxes of evidence that the DA had sent over. As far as I could figure the woman, Ms Harriet Slay, was alleging that she had met Jackson at a bar and they had it off. He bought her a drink and they talked for half an hour before he offered to drive her home. After Jackson drove her home, Ms Slay confesses she invited him in but then started feeling really weird and weak and passed out, around the time of 11 pm. The next morning, she woke up to find Jackson gone and that she was hurting below. Worried she went to the doctor who did blood tests and a rape kit, which evidence came back to the effect that she had indeed been subjected to fairly rough sexual intercourse and there were traces of flunitrazeam (which after a bit of googeling I found out was one of the chemical names for Rohypnol) in her bloodstream.

Jackson, on the other hand, was claiming that yes he had seen the girl but didn't leave with her and instead went home alone that night. The case was strong and at the moment our defense was weak, very weak.

"Eurgh," I groaned, rubbing my temples and shutting my eyes.

"Everything alright?" Gwen asked, popping her head up over the cubicle partition and giving me the shock of my life. 

"Jesus! When did you get in?" 

"About thirty seconds ago," She grinned, obviously enjoying the scare she'd given me, "Is that the case?"

"The case? Can you make it sound any more ominous?"

"The case of doom and desperation?"

"Not bad,"

"The one case to fool 'em all, the one case to prove to 'em, the one case to show them all, and in the courtroom move them!"

"Yeah, maybe leave the lyrical waxing up to those better suited,"

"Screw you."

'Anytime,' I was so close to saying it, it was on the tip of my tongue before the smarter side of my brain intervened. Not only had I decided mere hours earlier that this was a bad idea, but I just can't go around saying stuff like that, I'm not that bad ass... or bad ass to any degree really.

"So?" She asked, after a pause during which I was trying, and failing, to say something witty.

"So what?" 

"So, how is it?"

"The short answer: confusing," I responded, flicking closed the folder and showing her the thickness of the file.

"Yikes, that's a big file! And the long answer?"

"Fucking confusing," I delighted in the short bark of laughter my comment elicited from her and immediately felt guilty. 'Dammit Mark she's your colleague!'

"How's your head?" I enquired, noticing her eyes were slightly bloodshot.

"Two sizes too big for my skull, thanks for asking. Listen... about last night-" 

"Shit, what's the time?" I cut in, scrambling for my watch which I'd taken off, the implication of her just arriving finally hitting me.

"Just after nine, why? And Mark... I just wanted to say-"

"Dammit!" I said grabbing the folder in one hand and my jacket in the other, dashing out of the cubicle and heading to the elevator, "Sorry Gwen, I'm running late for Jenifer, we'll talk at lunch!"

I pummeled the button at the elevator, following in the footsteps of millions before who also thought that if they pressed hard and fast enough then maybe the lift would suddenly understand my need and come quicker.

When it finally did arrive, I impatiently waited for a flood of people to disembark before veritably jumping into the lift and struggling to slip on my jacket and hold the folder at the same time; somehow, and against all odds, I didn't drop the file and managed to exit on the 52nd floor dressed slightly more appropriately for a junior partner. I asked directions from Holly, the 52nd floor receptionist, and pounded my way to Jenny's office to find it thankfully empty.

"You're late," A young man, probably a year or two my junior, piped up from behind desk I'd barely noticed in my haste.

"Dammit, has she left?" I asked, turning to the guy who I assumed was her receptionist.

"Nah, she hasn't made it in yet," He said, looking up from the computer, "Ms Alswel doesn't tend to get in till quarter past."

"Then why did she ask me to get here at nine?"

"To screw with you, she seems to find it funny. I'm James by the way," he offered, extending a hand which I warmly grasped.

"Mark," I responded, "So is there anywhere to get a coffee on this floor?"

"Yeah the partner break room," he put his workstation to sleep and got up from the desk, "Black? White?"

"Oh, that's alright I'll get it," I responded, feeling bad for asking the guy to fetch me a coffee.

"Yeah... you don't have access to the partners break room," he gave me a sly smile, "Go in and take a seat, she'll be here in a couple of minutes."

I pushed through the frosted glass door with 'Jenifer Alswel, Junior Partner' etched into it and was immediately motivated to work harder. The vista was stunning, a skyline view of Manhattan is not something to be sneered at and if in a couple of years I could get one of my own? Well... that was definitely worth a couple extra hours put in here and there. I stood and stared through the floor to glass windows, engrossed by the city. I was so lost in my own little world I didn't even hear the door open and Jenifer join me.

"Beautiful isn't it?" Jenny asked, causing me to jump.

"Sorry," I responded sheepishly.

"Don't be, if I could get away with staring out at it all day I would."

"I don't know how you don't,"

"Why do you think my desk is position so my back is to it?" It was true, I had been so engaged by the view I had barely even noticed the rest of the room, "Take a seat."

I complied and settled into a leather chair positioned opposite her large mahogany desk, crossing my legs and folding my hands upon my knee, the image of professionalism, or so I hoped. I took a quick second to take in the room I'd been remiss in examining whilst she powered up her pc, filed away a few folders she pulled from an attaché and checked her emails.

The office was probably about twenty five square meters, which in itself was sickeningly large compared to my tiny, claustrophobic cubicle. Her large desk and the chair I occupied and its partner dominated half the room with a small coffee table and another four chairs occupying the other half. Against the interior wall furthest away from the door was a tall slim bookcase which housed everything from leather bound law books to a sleek stereo unit, from pictures of Jenny with suitably impressive political figures to phrenological bust.

"So what do you think?" It took me a second to realize she wasn't asking my opinion on her office, but rather was shifting the topic to the case.

"Well," I tried to get my thoughts straight, taking a second to collect my thoughts rather than jump in feet first, "I haven't had a chance to go through all state's evidence but it seems to me as if... well..."

"He's screwed?" She finished.

"In a word," I was interrupted by James who pushed in at that moment carrying two white coffees.

"Morning James," Jenny greeted.

"Ms Alswel," he responded, nodding his head and grinning as he placed one coffee in front of me and another in front of her, "Just letting you know that you're lunch has been pushed back to one and Carter has rescheduled this afternoon. I've managed to squeeze him in tomorrow at ten, down here at our offices."

"You managed to get him to come down here? Remind me to give you a pay rise,"

"I do every day, but you never listen." James left us alone and as the door clinked shut behind him, Jenny turned her attention back to me once more.

"Yeah, I don't see a way out of this yet, but who knows maybe something'll come up. He's coming in at eleven for a debrief, we'll see what that turns up."

We discussed some of the particulars for nearly thirty minutes; despite the easy way we talked, I couldn't quite shake the feeling I was begin quizzed. She would sometimes ask a direct question on a point of law and at others 'forget' a presiding precedent or 'accidently' use one which did not apply, seeing if I picked up on the 'mistakes'. 

"You did well," she commented when I corrected her on the differences in expressing consent with regards to lack of mental faculties. Jenny tried to mislead me with regards to the fact that since Jackson showed no bruises or other injuries that would have suggested reasonable resistance there was a chance that we could argue he had not been aware of her lack of consent, with the burden being on the prosecution that Ms Slay needed to express more than mere lack of acquisition. I rebutted the point explaining that since Jackson could reasonably be expected to know of her state of mind then even he if received consent it would still likely be considered rape due to her lack of full mental faculties, and the fact she was passed out.

"So you were testing me?"

"Yeahp," she smiled, "you didn't expect me to just go by what is written in your file did you?"

"I guess it depends on what's in my file," I rebutted, grinning back at her, pleased to have passed the test.

"Wouldn't you like to know? Unfortunately they're confidential,"

"Even to me?"

"Especially to you!" She laughed, "We don't want the associates knowing what we think of them! Them might resolve to work less hard!"

"Fair enough," I laughed with her for a few seconds before sobering up, "But isn't most of this moot? If Jackson either wasn't there or won't admit he was there, we can hardly argue it wasn't rape due to circumstances can we?"

"No, but maybe we can get the truth out of him,"

"So you he's lying to us?"

"You've read the evidence, don't you? I seriously doubt he's telling us the whole truth,"

"Yes," I agreed somberly, disheartened by the mounting challenges this case presented, "Why won't he admit it though? Does he know about the affidavit?"

"Not yet," she responded, "Hopefully that will get him to change his story to something closer to the truth. Goddammit I wish he would play straight with us!"

I wanted to ask why we were even taking the case if he wasn't 'playing straight' as she put it; surely the firm's reputation was more important than any money we would bring in on this one. To go with not guilty on a case which was quite frankly unwinnable would mark us as lacking integrity, not something you wanted paraded over you by your competitors. 

"Anyway," She said glancing at the clock that hung along one wall of the office, "I've got a conference call at ten, so why don't you go down the conference room and prep for Jackson's arrival?"

"Sure, anything specific you want done?"

"Not really, grab some water and stuff but mainly just look over the case and try to come up with anything you can, any question you think we might need to ask. So far I'm just kind of hoping for a miracle on this one,"

"Like Jackson being caught on CCTV somewhere else at the time he was supposed to be at her place?"

"That'd do, but I'm hoping for something more along the lines of Ms Slay dropping the charges and defecting to Cuba to become Castro's personal masseuse,"

***

Jackson slumped in the office chair in the conference room, absently playing with a glass of water before him and pointedly ignoring me. In his designer jeans and popped-collared polo shirt he looked every inch the frat boy in trouble.

"Jackson," Jenny greeted, extending her hand as she pushed into the conference room. 

"Jenifer," He responded sullenly, grasping her hand for barely a second before dropping it like it was material recovered from Chernobyl.

"So Jackson," Jenny took a chair on the opposite side of the table and motioned that I should sit next to her, "Why don't you tell us how you feel the trial will go?"

"Isn't that why I, oh sorry my Daddy," he sneered, "is paying you?"

"Yeahp, pretty much, but I want to know how you think it will go," Jenny was all sugar and smiles even in the face of his open contempt.

"Well, the bitch-"

"You might want to avoid that language in court"

"-is nothing but a lying whore and the jury will see that,"

"Uh huh," Jenny nodded and looked to me, "Mark how do you think the trial will go?"

"Jenny?" I clarified; she knew all too well how I thought the trial would turn out.

"Go on, tell Jackson,"

"Um, well," I started, "I think we're going to lose, and badly,"

"And would you care to inform Jackson as to why?" 

"Well," I was getting irritated at how I was being used as the go between, I mean I know I was only second chair but we were both his lawyers and pissing him off wasn't likely to yield too much, "the evidence against you is pretty solid-"

"I told you I didn't fucking do it! I didn't even leave the bar with her!" Jackson yelled, slamming the glass down and causing water to spill across the table top.

"Jackson, we have a signed affidavit from the valet stating that you both got into your car for god sake!" Jenny slapped the table hard, accentuating her point. There was a pause and I focused on Jackson's face, trying to read any emotion the sudden revelation might reveal. He didn't even so much as raise his eyebrows one iota; either he was a fantastic poker player, he'd seen this coming, or he had no idea what she was talking about.

"Yeah, well he's mistaken, how the hell he could remember everybody who he got cars for anyway!" 

"You drive a Maserati Gran Turisomo, how many of those do you think are in the city? No he remembers pretty damn clearly,"

"Jesus, are you guys on my side or not?"

"We're the only ones on your side Jackson; nobody else is your corner on this one. Christ you're being charged for rape! Do you have any idea what the conviction rate is like for this? Throw into the mix your playboy lifestyle and you'll be hard pressed to even get the jurors to listen to all the evidence before condemning you!" Jenny pushed her chair back and stood, breathing hard she grabbed my arm and half dragged me out of my chair and to the door. We stood outside in silence for several moments, Jenny still fuming.

"Listen, we're getting nowhere in there," she finally confessed. I felt like saying: 'No shit? Yelling at him and treating him like a petulant child isn't working?' instead I settled for something slightly more tactful.

"He's angry and resents us, he resents the fact that he's being brought up on these charges at all and resents the fact that we don't believe him,"

"Very diplomatic, but he doesn't resent us, he resents me," 

"Can I ask you a question?" I was nervous but knew that if I was to be any good to her, aside from being a pretty face that is, I needed to know what was compelling her to do this.

"Shoot,"

"Okay, well, why are you taking this case? It's clear you aren't getting along with him; why not pawn it off on some other partner, or even another firm? Is the money really that good?" I mentally added 'and why doesn't he change counsel?'

"His father... he and I have... history. He wants me to do this as a personal favor,"

"Oh right," not the answer I was expecting, but it explained a lot.

"Listen, you're right, I'm getting nowhere with him. Why don't you see what you can do?"

"Me? But I've never... I mean..."

"What's the matter kid? Don't you like clowns?" She said with a demented grin on her face, the non-sequitur startling me enough to encourage a small giggle from my lips. I wish I could say it was something more manly like a chuckle but no, it was definitely a giggle.

"Really? The Devil's Rejects?" The joke put me more at ease and gave me the boost of confidence I sorely needed.

"Hey, if you know the reference you can't judge,"

"Gentlemen, let's do what God made us to do," I responded, admitting defeat.

"Get in there," she said with a laugh, pushing me towards the door. Despite my more relaxed state, I still stole a quick breath before re-entering the room. 

"Mommy left the dirty work to you then did she?" Jackson sneered, playing with his smart phone.

"Mummy has to go shopping," I dryly replied, acting more confident than I was feeling. 'Two can play at this game.' I let the silence between us play out, just passively watching him play on his phone,

"Well aren't you going to ask me if I did it?" He asked eventually, metaphorically blinking first.

"Why, you already told me that you didn't," The ball was now in my court, time to see if I could prove myself useful to Jenny.

"Yeah but you don't believe me,"

"Why do you say that?"

"Nobody believes me. Most don't say as much, actually Jenifer is pretty unique in that, but you can see it in their eyes," He'd put down the phone now and looked at me for what felt like the first time.

"That must kinda suck,"

"Kinda? Everyone I know has walled themselves off from me, dad looks at me like I'm a cockroach, my friends avoid me like I'm radioactive, and my lawyer calls me a fucking idiot; so yeah I'd say it 'kinda sucks'"

"Well, looks like I'm the only one that's on your side in this then,"

"No you're not! You're with her, she doesn't believe me and neither do you!"

"Try me,"

"What?" 

"Try me," I repeated, "You're so sure I don't, I won't, believe you, what's the harm in trying?"

"Why? You've already read all about it, what's the point?"




The Bar Ch. 02



"I've read it, I haven't heard it. And the point? Well you're right, Jenifer doesn't believe you but at the moment you're looking totally screwed, you've got nothing left to lose,"

"Alright," He said after a moment, considering, "What do you want me to tell you?"

"Just tell me about your night,"

"You think you'll see something the police didn't? You a detective of something?"

"Haha, no" I laughed, reclining in the seat and propping my feet upon the table, trying for the image of nonchalance but probably hitting something closer to: uneasy complacency, "But the police weren't looking to clear you, they were looking to condemn you, and dammit if they didn't do a good job."

"You sure you're on my side?" he laughed took and seemed to relax in his chair, I had to admit when he wasn't sulking he could be quite charming.

"Just start at when you got the club,"

"Alright fine. So I got there at about then ten"

"Dry Land?"

"Yeah, Dry Land. So I got to Dry Land at about ten and valeted my car, I got inside the bar and scoped the place out; you know- looking for local talent."

"Yeah? How was it?"

"Not bad, I tried my luck with a couple of girls but struck out, one kept me talking for about fifteen minutes before her boyfriend came over and whisked her away, the tease, then I saw her at the bar,"

"Harriet?"

"Yeah, so I go up to the bar and...

... Harriet sat at the bar, absently sipping a dark and stormy. She didn't normally sit alone in bars, but her best friend Maggie was in the bathroom, no doubt hooking up and doing blow, so here Harriet was sitting all on her lonesome drinking a ridiculously expensive drink.

"Come here often?" It took Harriet a few seconds to realize that the guy standing two feet to her right was talking to her. He was attractive enough in a tailored grey suit, opened collar showing a bronze, toned chest.

"Often enough to know that that pickup line won't work in a place like this,"

"What makes you think it was a pick up line?"

"Why else would you be asking?"

"Maybe I just want a recommendation on the cocktail list?"

"Well do you?"

"If you have good taste," this last encouraged a giggle from Harriet, okay maybe the guy wasn't quite the cocky prick he looked like. 

"Try the caipirinha, it surprisingly authentic," she advised the stranger. The bartender finished up his previous order and moved down the bar to Harriet and her new acquaintance.

"What can I get you?" 

"Two caipirinhas please," the stranger asked, pulling out a fifty from the black leather wallet he held in his right hand.

"Just one," Harriet clarified, "Thanks anyway,"

"Who said it was for you?" The man in the grey suit with blue eye responded, raising an eyebrow in her direction.

"Oh sorry, I just... assumed,"

"Well I might forgive you... if you have a drink with me," the guy flashed a smile full of pearly white straight teeth, either he had amazing genetics or quite a bit of money had been spent on his dental care.

"You're a rogue," she shook her head, hiding a smirk, "but if you insist, I suppose I could have one more,"

The barman bustled off to make two of the lime and cachaca cocktails while the man in the blue suit pulled up a stool next to Harriet.

"I'm Jackson," Harriet accepted the extended hand, but instead of shaking it, as she had expected, the man, Jackson, raised it to his mouth and gently brushed the back of her fingers with his lips.

"Harriet," she offered after a beat, catching her breath.

"Pleasure," 

The two talked for a quarter of an hour until Maggie interrupted her friend, whispering in Harriet's ear that she was going to go home with Phill, the body builder she'd been holed up in the facilities with.

"What's wrong?" Jackson asked as Harriet returned to him, her face set in a scowl.

"Oh my ride just left is all,"

"Ah, sorry to hear that,"

"It's my own fault, I know what she's like, I should have just driven here myself. I'll grab a cab I guess,"

"Well, I know we only just met but if you want I did bring my car, I'm sure dropping you off wouldn't be too far out of my way," Normally Harriet wouldn't have even considered accepting such an offer from a strange man, but this guy seemed so sweet and her head was slightly fuzzy from the alcohol. Also, it had been a few months since she'd broken up with her scumbag cheating ex-boyfriend, the male attention she was garnering was flattering and... well if she had to admit it, something she'd missed.

"Oh no, it's fine, I can grab a cab, I don't want to put you out," she responded, half hoping he would notice her rejection due to convenience and not precedence.

"Don't be silly, it's really nothing, anyway I feel like a drive tonight,"

"Okay thanks," the words were out of her mouth before she even realized what she was saying, what they meant. The thrill of doing something so unlike herself compounded with the alcohol she'd drunk had her head spinning slightly.

Jackson helped Harriet to her feet and guided her to the door of the bar, a soft supporting hand at the small of her back. Jackson's car was parked on the street, clearly the establishment's attempt to show off, and it took the valet barely thirty seconds from leaving the valet podium to pulling the car around, hardly worth it really but the young kid wasn't going to give up a chance of driving that car!

"Nice car sir," the young kid remarked and Harriet had to agree. It was clear before this guy wasn't exactly impoverished but she hadn't been expecting this! Harriet knew she was attractive to a degree but never considered herself a real beauty; the attention she had received from somebody of such means was doing wonder for her self-esteem. She carefully slipped into the low leather seat, thanking the valet who held the door open for her and careful to keep her legs together, she wasn't one of these Hollywood celebrities who wantonly flashed their goods to every passerby!

"Wow," was all she could think to say as the doors were closed and Jackson slid the car into gear.

"Yeah it's pretty nice," he conceded, shooting her a sly grin and strapping himself in. The trip out of the city was surprisingly quick, the expensive car expertly maneuvered through traffic and onto the Brooklyn bridge, from there it was a fifteen minute drive to her house. Harriet spent most of the time listening to the soft jazz flowing from the car's speakers and watching the city slip past the window. The conversation flowed well at first, but as the drive continued she grew more and more drowsy and her ability to keep up the flow started to falter. Jackson, give him his due, didn't mind at all, he seemed happy to sit in silence and let her nap intermittently in the passenger seat.

"This it?" Jackson asked, gently shaking Harriet's leg, as they pulled up in front of her house, the GPS leading him right to her doorstep. 

"Yeah, thanks," Harriet said, unbuckling her seat belt. Jackson mimicked her move and quickly ran around the car to grab her door and help her out of the small vehicle.

"Thanks for the ride," She said again, teetering slightly on the stilettos she wore. She wanted him to ask for her number, the signs were definitely there and she was ready to get back on the horse so to speak.

"Any time," he moved in close and Harriet could feel his breath upon her neck, she smelled his cologne for the first time and couldn't help but deeply breathe in, savoring the peppery perfume. She wasn't sure who initiated the kiss, all she knew was that one second they were standing with barely a couple of inches between them and the next her lips was passionately locked with his. Harriet pressed herself into the strong man and letting him support her weak body, savoring the warmth and security he offered. 

'Oh fuck it!' She thought dopily, 'Let's show that prick Darius that he's not the only one that can have fun!'

It was in a haze that they moved up the path and through the front door of her small house, Jackson needing no great encouragement. Harriet led him to her living room, his tongue in her mouth and hands on her body the entire time. They tumbled to the couch in a fit of desperation and lust. 

Despite the blood pumping hormones flowing through her body, Harriet felt dizzier and weaker by the second. She thought she was feeling foggy as they left the club but by now her mind was struggling to hold thoughts together. Harriet was vaguely aware of her dress being pulled off her shoulders and Jackson kissing her neck and breasts and wanted to slow things down, she wasn't opposed to sex but not like this and not this quickly!

'Too fast,' she tried to say but the words wouldn't come out, all she could do was lie there, let him kiss her touch her body. She barely even felt his hands pushing her legs or the nip of his teeth on her neck, there seemed to be a barrier between her skin and her nerves. Eventually she managed a single word, her body limp and mouth struggling to manage even that.

"No," she muttered, then again a little louder, "No." She thought that he responded but Harriet couldn't be sure, her mind was so groggy she lacked the energy to process the sounds that reached her ears. She struggled to stay awake but her eyes were so heavy, so so heavy. All she wanted to do was sleep.

Harriet's eyes fluttered shut and she tried to force them open, she really did, but they were just too heavy. In a daze Harriet felt herself slip into the black, unconsciousness grabbing at her and dragging her down into inky depths...

... "So you did drive her home?" I clarified after Jackson finished telling his story.

"Yeah," he admitted, hanging his head.

"Why didn't you tell Jenny this?"

"You think that she would have believed me? I tell you what would have happened, I would have said I drove her home and Jenny would have already convinced herself I was guilty and it didn't matter if I got off, or worse that I deserved to go to jail,"

"You don't think you might be underestimating her?" I asked, puzzled at this man's complete lack of trust in the lawyer that his father had personally asked for.

"No, I know her type," there wasn't any point pushing this, I'd already made more progress than anyone, including myself, could have hoped for and I didn't want to throw it away on semantics.

"Okay, so after you drove her home the two of you went inside and started making out?"

"Didn't I just say that?" He asked sullenly, the charming man retreating into the petulant shell.

"Just trying making sure," I said with a smile, taking my feet off the desk and helping myself to a glass of water, "Then she asked you to leave?"

"For Christ's sake yes! She said something like no and then passed out; I covered her up with a blanket and took off her shoes. Then I left, shut the door, got in my car and drove away!"

"You covered her up and took of her shoes, that's all?"

"Fuck you," he spat, contempt written over his face.

"Mate, I'm not saying you did anything else, I just want to make sure that you didn't... I dunno, make a cup of coffee to sober up before you left," it sounded weak even to me and he didn't believe it for a second.

"Go fuck yourself, you're no different from the rest of them," dammit, I was losing any rapport we'd built up.

"Hey, I believe you didn't do what she was saying. So you left the house and came home, what time would it be that you got home?"

"Probably around one in the morning,"

"Why so late? From what I can tell you left hers no later than quarter past midnight?"

"I stopped for a kebab on the way home and there wasn't any way I was going to take that shit in my car," He was still petulant but he was at least answering my questions.

"Okay, cool, just one more question: why didn't you tell the police any of this?"

"Like I said, they wouldn't have believed me. The second I tell them that I took her home and went inside, they'd have already made up their minds that I raped her. I mean who else could have done it right? It's what the rest of you think,"

"Hey, I'm on your side right? We'll figure this out," truthfully I was finding his version of the tale a little hard to believe myself, but I wasn't going to tell him that; "There's just one problem."

"Just one?"

"Alright, there are a lot of problems, but we have a big one. When we put you on the stand and you testify, the prosecution are going to ask you why you lied during the interview and they're going to say that you lied then and you're lying now."

"You don't think I don't know that? You don't think I don't know that I'm going down for this? You don't think that I don't know that I'm going to be charged for something that I didn't do? I've heard about what they do to rapists in prison," the young man broke down in tears and suddenly it was clear: he hasn't been petulant and sullen due to some inherent personality, he'd just lost all hope -- either that or he belonged on the stage.

"Hey man, we'll sort this out," I moved around to the table and awkwardly patted him on the back, "Jenny's pretty smart, she'll come up with a few ideas." It was the wrong thing to say, he violently jerked away from me and stood up, kicking over his chair in the process. Grabbing his overcoat, he stormed out of the room without even a backwards glance, slamming the glass door so heavily I was afraid it might shatter.

"Fuck," 

***

"So how'd it go?" Jenny asked as she let me into her office.

"Not bad," I said, taking the proffered seat, still feeling bad at how he'd stormed out on me.

"Well judging on how he ran out of the place I'm going to guess not good either," 

"Fair point. Jenny can I ask you a question?"

"You really need to stop asking that," she replied exasperatedly, pushing a button on the intercom, "James can we get a couple of coffees?"

"Sure Ms. Alswel," his voice came through the speakerphone and I was grateful for the thought, I hadn't had my usual afternoon caffeine boost and I was really starting to notice last night's lack of sleep.

"Why does he get to call you Ms. Alswel but you bite my... um, I mean you prefer it when I call you Jenny?"

"Bite your head off?" She supplemented, raising her eyebrows and smirking.

"Um... well... I wouldn't... Yeah" I finished lamely.

"Well, James is stubborn and after the hundredth or so time I just gave up. Was that your questions?"

"Maybe I should be a bit more stubborn then," I grinned back, "And no that wasn't my question."

"If you try you will find yourself back in the bullpen faster that you can count to ten," even though she was smiling I decided not to try my luck, "Okay then, what's your question?"

"You think he did it don' you?"

"Is that a question or a statement?"

"Both I guess,"

"Bloody lawyers" Jenny then paused for a long moment and I could tell she was considering whether or not to give some flippant answer along the lines of: it doesn't matter if I believe him or not, just how well I defend him. Eventually however, it seemed she decided on the truth.

"No, I don't. I've read the evidence and heard his story and... well it just doesn't make sense. Do you?"

"Yes," I surprised myself with my answer, I wasn't a hundred percent certain but the display he put on in the conference had moved me.

"Why?" I told Jenny the version Jackson had told me, told her of how he had broken down, and of how he seemed to have lost all hope.

"He could be playing you," She voiced my own treacherous thoughts.

"Yeah, but... why? I mean we're his lawyers, we're on his side anyway right?"

"There's being on his side and being on his side," when I looked non-plussed she continued, "Listen, there are good lawyers that win cases when they know their client is guilty: they get off on the thrill of beating the legal system; then there are great lawyers that win an unwinnable situation because they think their client is innocent."

"Which one are you?"

"I don't know," the brevity of the answer made me believe in its honesty. 

***

By the time I got home that evening I was absolutely shattered, I pushed through my heavy door into the small one bedroom apartment and dropped my leather satchel on the dining table come desk. Jenny had put me to work that afternoon trawling through state's evidence, trying to find... well anything really. 

I wasn't too sure that she believed Jacksons new story, but she was at least acting under the assumption that it held some truth, for that matter I was struggling with the tale a bit more than I would have liked to admit myself. I rubbed my shoulder and let out a loud sigh, I desperately needed to see a masseuse, get some of the stress kneaded and beaten out of me.

I went about the laborious task of making dinner, no gourmet five course meals for me tonight. Nope, dinner was a pack of two minute noodles, spiced up with an egg and a handful of spring onion. 

As I waited for the pot to boil, I started to flick through the yellow legal pad, looking over the notes I'd made through the day. There had to be something somewhere that gave Jackson just an ounce of credibility. 

"If only you hadn't lied to the police," I muttered, flicking through my notes on the seemingly insurmountable evidence the prosecution had put together. 

"Maybe there is some way to suppress his interrogation?" I mused as I picked over my shamelessly un-nutritional meal, "Why didn't you have your lawyer present..." It was a question I hadn't thought to ask Jackson, assuming Jenny had already covered it, but what if she didn't? Maybe he hadn't bothered to ask for one? Well, even if that were true was there another way of suppressing his interrogation? Duress? Alcohol? I wasn't sure, I knew contract law inside out, but this criminal malarkey was doing my head in.

I was faced with a decision at that point, I could either spend the next couple of hours trawling through the internet trying to find various precedence and legal basis for which a police interrogation could be suppressed, or I could call Wilma. It really wasn't all that difficult a decision.

***

Wilma's phone rattled against the night stand, the LCD screen flashing with an incoming call.

"Leave it," Dale moaned, kissing her neck and sliding a hand beneath the sheets to cup her naked breast.

"It might be work,"

"It's a Friday night, you're off the clock," 

"We're first year associates, we're never off the clock," Wil grabbed the phone and put it to her ear, "Hey Mark, what's up?"

"Mark? You interrupt for Mark?" Dale half whispered half mouthed, ignoring the shushing motion Wil was making.

"Yeah not much, yourself?" Wil carried on her own conversation as Dale collapsed back on the bed, his hard on tenting the front of the sheets, fuming slightly at being classified as: not much.

'Bloody Mark. Why does he have to call at the least opportune moment... or most,' a wicked thought sprung into Dale's mind and he slowly slithered down the bed until the sheet was pulled up over his head. 

He started slowly, at first nothing more than just a gently rub of Wilma's hip, his soft fingertips raising goose bumps upon the soft skin. When he received no resistance, Dale stepped up his plan, slowly and softly placing his lips to Wil's hip, kissing his way up the young woman's side. 

"Oh," Wil let slip suddenly as her lover took a soft nipple in his mouth and teased it back to life. "Huh, oh yeah everything's fine," she covered, closing her eyes and letting Dale's mouth work its magic. They'd never played this game before, but she was definitely up for it if he was!

As Dale's mouth let loose upon Wil's small but pert breasts, he explored her body with his fingers, specifically the place between her tight waist and milky thighs. Despite knowing how Wil liked to be touched, Dale decided she needed to be teased a little first, punishment for answering the phone. He let his fingers run from the inside of one thigh to the apex between her legs, up the side of her puffy southern lips, then down to the other thigh; never explicitly touching any of her erogenous zones but still eliciting a few soft moans which he fervently hoped Mark didn't pick up on.




The Bar Ch. 02



"You like that?" Dale whispered, releasing Wil's nipple from his lips and looking up into his lover's brown eyes as his one finger 'accidently' brushed against her clit. 

"Yes," She mouthed back, phone still pressed to her ear. That was all the permission Dale needed, he returned to the mission at hand, so to speak, and focused his attention on placing her small delicate nub between his ring and middle finger, proceeding to massage the sensitive organ.

Wil lay back against the pillows and enjoyed the ministrations Dale was administering, aroused and delighted by the slow buzz of pleasure he was inducing. Dale may be an awful bore at times, but give the man credit: he did know how to touch a girl. 

"Okay, yeah there are several precedents, Miller vs Texas, Harrison vs New England and even Winchester vs Kansas, but from what you tell me..."

Dale heard Wilma chat away to Mark and, despite getting a kick out of this act of pseudo-voyeurism, was irritated that she was so easily able to carry a conversation, especially one of a technical manner. 'Okay that does it,' he decided, 'In for a penny, in for a pound."

Dale wriggled further down the bed until his face came to just above the woman's sex. He inhaled deeply and was assaulted by the scent of her desire and passion. He didn't want to tease her any more, he didn't want to slowly work her up; no, he wanted to deliver her to an earth shattering orgasm whilst she was on the phone. What he really wanted was to delve into the hidden garden before him and taste the sweet nectar, which is precisely what he did.

"Ah," Wil inhaled deeply as Dale's tongue ravished her clit, tracing the length of her slit in long, firm licks, "No just... trod on something." She explained at Mark's inquiry. 

For Wilma, her excitement went from a gentle three of soft caressing to a full blown six in a matter of seconds. She could feel the orgasm mount within her, being turned on just as much by the oral sex as she was by the complete taboo of what they were doing! When Dale's strong, flexible muscle tongued her moist opening she jerked violently, the intense and unexpected pleasure too much for her body.

"I'm gonna cum... in to the office tomorrow. I'll... oh, I'll..." her stomach clenched and she arched her back, "Look through some... cases and send you an email. Got-to-go-talk-later." Will threw the phone down and pulled Mark's face up from her crotch, bringing him to eye level.

"Fuck me now," She commanded, before shoving her tongue deep into his mouth.

***

"That was weird," I remarked as I ended the call. Wilma is usually fairly focused and clear thinking so why was she so rattled? "Probably just had too much caffeine or something,"

I slumped on the couch and flipped on the TV, the flashing lights and pretty colors serving very little purpose except to add background noise to the room. My mind wandered back to the case, not the law and what defense we might put on, but the circumstances and Jackson's tale. Despite what I had said hours earlier in Jenny's office, and to Jackson himself, I was having second doubts about the whole thing.

"They left together, her drink was spiked, there was evidence of aggressive sex, he came home a good hour after he said he left her place... and he lies to the police," Was he playing me? I couldn't be sure, but it was a definite possibility. My head was hurting and this was driving me crazy! I needed to get out, just forget about it for a couple of hours, this second guessing nonsense was taking a toll.

I picked up my phone and slid it open, selecting the message app from the status bar.

FROM: Mark Roberts

SUBJET: Hey

MESSAGE: Hey, sorry about bailing on lunch today, Jenny kept me pretty busy. How did your day shape up? Up to anything tonight?

I sent Gwen the message and waited for a reply, she was usually pretty punctual but tonight the response just didn't come. In frustration I threw the phone away and picked up a book, but alas JRR Tolkein had just as much sway over me as the latest MTV Reality Crap that was still playing in the background. 

"Why do you care that she hasn't texted back? She's probably busy," I have a bad habit of talking to myself when I'm alone; maybe it's cause I'm a bit of a loner or maybe it's cause I'm insane, I don't suppose I'll ever know.

'Busy? Yeah maybe she's on a date,' a treacherous part of my mind replied.

"So what? Good for her if she is,"

'If you really thought that then why have you been thinking about the kiss all day?'

"I have not!" But even as I said it, realizing how cliché this entire conversation was, I knew I was lying.

'Yeah right... you've been daydreaming about grabbing her in the office, kissing her hard, taking her to the staff room and-'

"Lalala," I said loudly, hoping to banish the alluring yet taboo fantasy that was starting to play out in my mind. How the hell had I gone in twenty four hours from seeing Gwen as a co-worker, albeit a drop dead gorgeous one, to someone I wanted to whisper sweet nothings to in the middle of the night. Someone I wanted to sneak up behind, slip an arm around her waist and hold her tight. Brush Gwen's hair back from her neck and...

"Jesus Christ, look at yourself?" Okay, this was enough. I was going for a run and then having a shower. A cold shower.

*

Fin

AN: Thanks for making it this far! I hope you were happy with the way it is turning out and weren't disappointed with the pseudo phone sex! I apologize for the time it's taken to upload but I held off waiting for an editor but haven't had any luck getting one yet and decided not to wait any longer. There might be a few spelling/grammar mistakes (reading your own work you tend to miss a few things) so I apologize if there were. Please let me know what you thought (comment/criticism/suggestions all welcome!)