Buzz Buzz Buzz!
A small white hand descended down upon the "OFF" button of the alarm clock. The wretched cries of the instrument ceased.
Mia Fey wearily stretched and hoisted herself off her bed. Her feet were too weak however, and she fell heavily back into the rumpled sheets.
That's strange. I feel so dizzy. Well, maybe it's because I have to go back to work today. It's been two weeks after all...
Carefully, Mia made her way over to the tiny bathroom of her apartment. Her body convulsed with chills, even though the surrounding air was comfortably warm. She turned on the lights over the sink and suddenly, her head erupted in pain as if someone had pulled scorching iron bands over her eyes.
Slowly, the tense pain in her head subsided. She reached for the purple toothbrush laid across the faucet and as a daily habit the young attorney proceeded to peek into the mirror. What she saw shocked her. Her eyes were puffy despite the several hours of sleep she had gotten the night before and face was flushed a bright tomato red. Taking a thin hand, Mia laid the back of her palm to her cheek. It was no mystery why her skin had taken on such a shocking shade of scarlet-she was shivering with waves of cold but inside, she was burning hot with fever. Suddenly, she was hit with a wave of nausea. She turned and knelt down by the toilet and expelled everything she had eaten the night before.
Great. What a perfect time to get sick.
Slowly, however, the woman resumed to her morning routine. She brushed her teeth, carefully applied her makeup, and dressed in a crisp black suit. After all, she would have to go to work if she wanted to get paid.
Mia Fey dropped into the cloth upholstered chair in her small office and Grossberg Criminal Defense Law Firm. She closed her eyes for a moment and let her head drop back, just so the room would stop rotating around her. Opening her eyes again, the lawyer spotted a manila envelope sitting at the corner of her oak desk. A new load of work after her elongated vacation.
Mia reached for the envelope and opened it. A picture of a man started up at her. It was the photo of a man she was all too familiar with, a pitiful pair of overflowing eyes, the pouty lips that seemed to beg for their owner's justice, a face criss-crossed with a strange pattern of crosses that look as if the man had run headlong into a barbed-wire fence. Underneath the picture was a line of bolded black letters that spelled "State vs. Fawles".
Mia didn't want to be reminded of that case, her very first. And to think that all of the events that occurred during that trial was entirely her fault, the poisoning, the lack of a verdict, and of course, letting that demoness escape without bearing any formal guilt. Afterwards, Mia had taken an extended break in hopes of suppressing those moments in her memory, and yet, the day she returned to being a lawyer, there it was, those memories staring back at her once more.
Knock Knock Knock
"Come in," the attorney sighed.
Before the door had even been opened fully came a deep voice that resonated through the office, "So, how is my Kitten faring?"
"I'm just fine Mr. Armando."
"Are you now?" Diego Armando opened the door and walked in. In his hand was his usual cup of black coffee. With a smug smile pasted across his face, he sat down in one of the wooden chairs adjacent to Mia's seat across the desk. He stared straight into her eyes and mumbled, "Well, quite frankly, I didn't expect you back here for quite some time."
"Then I suppose your expectations were a bit off sir."
"No Mia, I wouldn't say that," came the reply. "That case was well, intense. A rookie like you wouldn't have recovered from that so soon."
"I'm just fine Mr. Armando," Mia repeated. The smell of the coffee on his breath was nearly enough to make her retch. She just wanted this hot-shot lawyer out of her office so she could have a bit of peace and quiet to deal with the events of that trial-and her pounding head.
The two attorneys sat in silence for many long uncomfortable moments. Mia noticed he co-worker staring at her out of the corner of her eye. His eyes seemed to be boring holes into her face. She whipped around and stared straight back at him. "Mr. Armando, if you could please-"
Suddenly, he took his large hand and placed his palm against her cheek.
"Mr. Armando! Please!" the woman shrieked. She grabbed his wrist and threw it back across the desk. "Please, do me a favor and leave my office!"
"You're hot," was the response.
"What?"
"Your cheek, it's hot. You're not well kitten. Now, if you could do mea favor, you could go home and get some much needed rest."
"I can't do that," said Mia, exasperated. "I'm, uh, a bit low on funds…"
"So?"
"I've already taken two weeks off and-"
"-another week would do you good! Go home Kitten, you need it!"
"Mr. Armando," Mia said, her voice taking on a tinge of agitation, "you've been working here for years, you should know Mr. Grossberg's policies." She pulled out a sheet of paper out of her desk drawer. At the top, in large capital letters was written "GROSSBERG CRIMINAL DEFENSE LAW FIRM: EMPLOYEE ABSENCE". Moving her finger halfway down the paper, she turned the paper to face her co-worker and read, "'Employees are entitled to one paid day of absence every month. Additional days of absence in the month will not be compensated.'" Returning the paper to her desk drawer, Mia explained, "Now, earlier this month, I went to visit my sister for a day in her village so-"
But when she looked up again, it was apparent that Diego Armando was not listening. He rapped his fingers against the arm of the wooden chair and rolled his eyes. "I've always thought that policy was a bit strict, haven't you Kitten?"
"The point is," Mia mowed on, "that I haven't come to work in two weeks, which means I haven't been paid in two weeks. And if I recall, it was youwho suggested for me to stay home for a while. I hope you don't think I make that much Mr. Armando, I do need to eat and I have rent to pay."
Again, it was obvious that the lawyer across from her was not receiving her words. "You're not listening are you?" Mia sighed.
"Go home until you feel better. Actually, make it the whole week," said the man. It was not so much as a suggestion as it was a command. "You're flushed and feverish and I know that pretty little head of yours is screaming out for some rest."
Frustrated, Mia leaned her elbow against her desk and dropped her head into her hand. She closed her heavy eyes and exhaled through gritted teeth.
Across from her, Diego Armando mumbled to himself, "You take the bus the work don't you…hmm, lucky for you, I have a car…"
Suddenly, Mia felt a thick hand clamp tightly around her wrist. She tried to break free but it was like a jaw, unrelenting. "Please sir!" she screamed. "Let go of me!
"Not this time," he sneered, dragging his young protégé from behind her desk and directly out her office door. He continued pulling her down the corridors of the law firm, but already weak, Mia did not put up much of a struggle, except the frustrated grunts emerging from the back of her throat. Almost out the glass double doors of the building, the two attorneys passed by a large man in a thick red suit.
"Mr. Armando, Miss Fey! Explain yourselves!" Mr. Grossberg demanded as he tried to waddle after them.
"Ha! It seems as if our littlest kitten still needs some time in the litter," Diego Armando growled while pushing open the door. His superior watched them, a puzzled look spread across his face.
"Sit," the dark-haired lawyer commanded as he opened the passenger door of his flashy black sports car. Roughly, he pushed Mia down into the leather seat and slammed the door behind her. He then walked around the vehicle, taking his place at the driver's seat. He dug in his pocket for his keys, then pushed one into the ignition. The engine roared to life.
"Please," Mia pleaded, but it was too late. The driver had already backed out of the parking space and sped out of the lot. She gripped the arm rest on the door tightly, fighting off the waves of nausea as the car made wild turns and screeching stops. "Please, I'm fine," Mia squeaked, "It's no emergency."
The driver was once again, not listening. He was cursing under his breath at intercepting cars, weaving in and out of tiny back roads in an attempt to avoid traffic. To Mia, the minutes were very long and tense, but finally, they pulled into the tiny parking lot of her apartment complex. She uttered her thanks, and then opened the door of the car. The drive had left her even more dizzy and disoriented, but regardless, she wobbled on tall heeled shoes towards the door of the building. But, she was taken by surprise when suddenly, she felt a tender hand on the small of her back. Behind her was indeed, Diego Armando.
He didn't say anything, but he did give her a small smile, then grabbed her hand and helped her into the complex and up the stairs to her apartment. "Thank you," Mia muttered, standing in front of her door, "but…"
"A little more time at home," the man behind her said firmly. He let go of her hand and took a step back. "You can do that can't you Kitten. Oh, and don't worry about that precious pay of yours. I'll take care of it."
Mia squinted at him, still reluctant against his suggestion.
Diego Armando gave a great sigh. "Trust me on this. In the end, three weeks of rest will do you good."
Mia Fey sat in the chair of her office at the law firm that Monday. After a full seven days at home, she was fully recovered from her illness and for the first time in a long time, she was genuinely glad to be back at work. But, there was still that issue about money. After all, rent was due soon and she had nothing to pay it with…
Knock Knock Knock
"Come in," Mia said.
The door opened and Mia saw that dressed in his usual bright scarlet was Diego Armando. In one hand, he carried a classic white coffee mug and in the other, was a small cream-colored envelope.
"Good morning Mr. Armando," Mia said, a slight smile gracing her face.
"Good morning Mia," the man replied. He sat down in a wooden chair across from her at the desk, placing the envelope on the oak surface. He took a sip from his mug, then with a smug smile, "I told you that extra time in your bed would do you good, Kitten."
"I suppose," the woman mused. She tapped her fingers against her desk. Perhaps, her head wasn't so heavy anymore, but certain issues were still on her mind.
"Well, uh, this is for you," the attorney across from her mumbled. He slid the cream envelope across the desk in front of her. His eyes darted back and forth as if they were unsure on where to settle. "Um, uh, you should open it now."
Diego Armando stuttering? This is unexpected.
Mia took the small envelope in her hand and slit it open with a finger. She pulled out a single piece of paper. It was a check. Addressed to her name. The value written on it: the equivalent to three weeks worth of pay.
"I-is this from Mr. Grossberg? Oh, please tell him I said th-"
"A good lawyer sees things that invisible to the untrained eye, but most of all, sees the things right under their nose," the man said forcefully. He jabbed a finger at the left hand corner of the check. In black letters was the name of the addressee: Diego Armando.
Mia gasped. She placed the small piece of paper in front of her colleague and stammered, "Oh no, I, um, thank you for your concern, but I-I can't accept this…"
Diego Armando took the check into his hand looking into the woman's eyes. There was a moment of silence, and then he took Mia's hand and forced the paper into her fingers, pushing them down to crumple around the money. In a second, he had closed his fist around hers. "I told you I would take care of it," he said in a low voice, his eyes staring directly into hers.
Mia lowered her head in a gesture of thanks, but also in a gesture of submission. She had lost and this stubborn, arrogant attorney had won over her in the end.
She watched as the man stood up and pushed the wooden chair back to its place. He walked over to the door and walked through into the hallway. His hand reached for the knob to pull the door shut again when he turned back around and glanced at Mia, still watching him from her desk.
"You deserved it Kitten. All three of those weeks," he said gently. Then, ever so slowly, as if he didn't want to disturb her, Diego Armando shut the door behind him without a sound, leaving the woman inside to peek at the wrinkled check inside her palm and wonder what that tiny piece of paper truly meant.
Disclaimer: All characters, locations, and recognizable plot elements belong to Capcom. I do not own anything. No copyright infringment intended.
Author's Notes: Thanks for reading everyone! This was the first fanfic I ever wrote, which was written about 2 years ago. I have not changed it at all since then. Please leave a comment; I appreciate any feedback I get. If you liked this story, keep checking back. I have plenty of other stories (they are already finished!) that will be published very soon!
