AN: So this idea came from discussions over in our Spoone, Redzie Facebook page. I think it would be interesting to explore this pairing, because Liz would be able to put up with Alan's bull while still being herself. Give it a chance, you may like it. ;)
Disclaimer: I don't own anything related to The Blacklist or Boston Legal.
Elizabeth Keen walked into the entrance of Crane Poole & Schmidt and just about turned right back around. It was a madhouse, a complete madhouse. She couldn't tell who were lawyers and who were clients; and the noise level...it was unbearable. A good friend had recommended this law firm, but she honestly couldn't see why.
She watched as a tall, funny looking man strode past her chasing after an older, well-dressed man. The older one kept yelling "Denny Crane" over his shoulder, not listening to a word the tall man was saying. It was actually pretty funny.
Not that she found many things very funny these days.
She was here because her bastard of a husband had beat her, then had the gall to file for divorce and ask for alimony. She needed the best lawyer money could pay for, and that's why she was here. But staring into this madhouse she wondered if it would be easier to just give Tom the money and be done with it.
She worked for the FBI and made pretty good money, but not enough for what Tom was asking for. Bastard.
A pretty, dark-haired woman approached her with a smile on her face. "Hi, can I help you?"
Liz cleared her throat and tried not to look the woman directly in the eye. The bruises on her face were just beginning to fade, but they were still noticeable. They embarrassed her greatly because she was a federal agent. She should be able to take care of herself, and she had allowed herself to get her ass handed to her.
"Um, I need a good lawyer. The best you have."
The woman nodded and looked over her shoulder. "Then you need Alan Shore. I'll take you to him and we'll see if he can help."
Liz smiled in relief that the woman hadn't winced at her face, or tried to say something to comfort her. She was all business, and that told her more than anything about this place.
As the woman led Liz towards this Shore guy, she was almost run over twice by the man who kept saying "Denny Crane". The second time he ran into her, he stopped and raked his eyes up her body, then smiled and introduced himself. But before Liz could tell him off, her escort grabbed her by the arm and pulled her away while apologizing profusely. Somewhere in her apology she heard "Mad-cow" and "crazy"; Liz didn't know what the hell was going on.
They eventually walked into a quieter hallway, and the woman knocked on a door at the end. They heard a "Come in", then the woman pushed the door open and smiled at the man sitting behind his desk. "Alan, this is..." She trailed off and grimaced. "I'm sorry, I never asked you what your name was."
Liz stepped forward and smiled at the handsome man sitting behind his desk. "I'm Elizabeth Keen."
Alan stood up and buttoned his suit coat then approached her. He tilted his head to the side as he studied her, then he reached forward and ran a finger over her bruised cheek softly. "I'm assuming you're here for that. Why don't you sit down and tell me more?"
Liz wanted to tell him off for touching her, but she couldn't seem to find the words. He obviously cared and seemed sincere; she didn't need to alienate him by speaking harshly to him.
Her escort left without another word and closed the door behind her.
She sat down across from his desk and took a deep breath. She was nervous and more than a little scared at the prospect of telling someone about the abuse. She didn't want to appear weak.
He sat down in his chair again and looked at her with raised eyebrows. She couldn't help but admire his good looks with his light brown hair, well-shaped jaw, and nice smile. Not to mention that he wore the hell out of a suit.
"So Elizabeth, can I call you Liz?"
She shrugged. She didn't care what he called her as long as he won her case. "Sure, whatever."
"So Liz, tell me why you're here."
She spent the next ten minutes telling him about Tom and their marriage. How it had started out great, but her husband had soon became abusive, and it continued to escalate. She was afraid for her life; the last time he had broken two of her ribs and a cheekbone.
As her story continued to unfold, his eyes became more and more narrow, and by the time she was finished he looked angry. "Why haven't you called the police?"
She sat forward, then winced at the pain it caused in her ribs. "I have. He gets arrested then let out almost immediately. It's like he has connections. His charges never stick. I don't know what to do anymore." She knew she sounded pathetic and weak, but she felt comfortable in front of this man, and she didn't know why.
He sighed and sat back. "Forgive me. Abuse cases always serve to raise my blood pressure."
He stood up and walked around the desk, then sat down next to her. "Liz, I will do everything in my power to make it so you can feel safe again. I promise."
She nodded and wiped her nose with a tissue that he handed her. "Thank you. I didn't know where else to turn."
He reached over and put his hand in-between her shoulder blades. "You came to the right place. Not only will he lose his case, but he's going to go to prison for his crimes."
She believed him.
OOOOOO
The next day she walked into the firm and sighed. It was even crazier than yesterday, and no one seemed to notice or care. She made her way through the scrum and came face to face with Alan Shore. Apparently she was later than she thought and he had come looking for her. He smiled and took her elbow, then began to lead her towards his office. "How are you today, Liz?" He asked loudly over the noise.
She leaned closer and said, "Fine...I guess." She wondered if she was depressed. She didn't seem to feel much besides pain these days.
He squeezed her elbow lightly then led her inside his office and shut the door. She turned to sit down, but was startled by the presence of the "Mad-cow" man. "Um.." she said, not sure what to do.
Alan patted her on the shoulder and gestured to the man sitting on the couch in front of him. "Liz, this is Denny Crane. Denny, this is Elizabeth Keen."
Denny smirked and nodded. "Denny Crane," he said roughly.
"Erm..nice to meet you, Denny." She sat down and glanced nervously at him. He seemed a little "off". She didn't like "off".
Alan stepped in front of Denny and began to converse with him in a low voice. Soon after, Denny stood up and passed behind her. "I'm sure I'll be seeing you around, Liz...Denny Crane." Then he walked out and shut the door.
Liz let out a breath and shook her head. "He's...interesting."
Alan laughed. "That's one word you could use to describe him."
He sat down behind his desk, unbuttoning his suit coat as he did. "There's one thing we need to get out of the way today before we move on to filing charges." He blinked a few times, and she couldn't help but notice how long and golden his eyelashes were. They were prettier than hers were.
She bit her lip. "What's that?"
He crossed his legs and toyed with a pen. "We need to take pictures of your injuries before they heal. That's the most incriminating evidence we have."
Liz felt extremely uncomfortable showing her injuries to anyone. "Who would be taking those pictures?"
He pointed his pen at the door. "I can have Tara do it. She was the one you met yesterday."
Liz sighed, but nodded reluctantly. "Fine, let's just get it over with."
He nodded and stood, then began to move past her. She caught his wrist before he could leave. "Actually.." She couldn't believe she was going to say this. "I think I would feel more comfortable if you took the pictures."
His eyebrows rose in surprise, but he nodded his head in acknowledgment. "Very well. We need to take them now if that's ok with you."
It wasn't, but she didn't see that she had much choice if she wanted to win the case.
Instead of saying any of that, she nodded and stood up, releasing his wrist in the process. "Let's do it now while I still have the courage to."
He looked at her with sympathetic eyes; something that she didn't want to see come from him. "What do I need to do then?"
He turned and went over behind his desk, then opened a drawer and pulled out a black camera. He turned to her and winced slightly. "I can start with your face, but you'll need to remove your shirt and pants eventually."
She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. This wasn't going to be pleasant.
He handed her a wet wipe to remove her foundation, then he finished taking pictures of her face all too soon.
"You need to remove your clothing now. You can keep your undergarments on." She wanted to walk out and never come back, but she knew that Tom wouldn't ever stop until he killed her. She didn't have many choices left.
She quickly pulled her shirt and pants off while avoiding eye contact with Alan. She didn't want to see the look on his face when he saw her bruises.
She stood up and looked behind Alan's shoulder at the wall as she followed his instructions. His voice was tight with anger. She didn't even know him well, but she could tell he was mad.
Tears began to run down her face as the camera continued to click. She was utterly humiliated, and still in a lot of pain. It hurt to even breathe.
The clicking finally stopped, but she stood there unmoving; too embarrassed to say or do anything.
After a few moments a hand on her shoulder startled her out of her trance. She blinked and looked up to see Alan looking at her with anger in his eyes. "He's going to pay for this, Liz. He won't be a free man after I'm finished with him." He reached up and wiped the tears off of her cheeks with his thumb.
She nodded, but then just as quickly a sob forced its way out of her. She hadn't cried properly since the latest incident, and now she couldn't stop the onslaught of tears as they spilled out of her eyes like a dam breaking.
His frown deepened as he slid his arm around her shoulders and pulled her into a gentle hug. She wrapped her arms around his waist under his coat and just let all her emotions go, not caring that she was barely clothed or that she had only known Alan for less than twenty-four hours. She was tired of being strong, she needed someone to be strong for her for a few minutes.
He pulled her closer and ran his hands up and down her bare back soothingly. He was gentle with her, and that made her cry harder. She hadn't had someone be gentle with her for as long as she could remember.
She buried her face in his neck and breathed him in. His scent was unique, and she found that she liked it. After a few moments she pulled away but avoided looking at him. "I'm sorry about your suit. I'll pay to have it dry cleaned."
He huffed a laugh. "You'll do nothing of the sort. It's included in your fee." She could tell he was trying to lighten the situation. She let him.
She smiled and looked at him. "Thank you for letting me cry all over you. I'm sure that's not included in the fee."
He took a step back and handed her shirt to her. "You'd be surprised."
She pulled her shirt back on, then took the proffered pants from his hand and slipped them on as well. She felt better once her clothes were covering the bruises, but she still saw a hint of anger in his eyes.
Why did he care so much? She was just another client, right?
AN: Thanks for reading! Please let me know what you think! :)