Pen name: CullenLoving Mom
Rating: M
Pairing: Jasper x Edward
Title: Conflict of Interest
Fandom: Twilight
A/N: This fic was originally written for the Fics for Nashville. Thanks so much to everyone who supported the cause. I am happy to report that Nashville is well on its way to recovery after the flood. Still, many people are still out of their homes or out of work as a result of the devastation of the Flood of May 1 and 2, 2010.
Thanks so much to afragilelittlehuman, closettwilighter1 and wytchwmn75 for their beta and pre-reading skills. Thanks so much for your support.
Disclaimer: SM is lucky enough to own the characters. I own the plot. No copyright infringement is intended.
Summary: Edward Masen is an attorney who has an axe to grind with the hard-assed, criminal court judge, Jasper Whitlock. When Edward and Jasper meet outside of the courtroom, however, sparks fly. Acting on those sparks could cause problems for both of their careers. They find themselves with a serious conflict of interest.
EPOV
Shit.
I was late. Judge Whitlock had made it crystal clear he was going to throw my ass in jail if I was late to his courtroom one more time. Running from the parking lot, lugging my brief case, I made it to the metal detector at the courthouse entrance.
Damn, a line.
Three slow-assed people were in front of me, but I finally made it through and zipped right into an elevator. Moments later, I was walking to the front of Judge Whitlock's courtroom. He stopped mid-sentence when he saw me.
"Mr. Masen, so nice of you to join us this morning, but, as you well know, I call my docket at 8:30 sharp. It is almost 9:30."
He was such an ass. Other attorneys were late to his court, but he never said anything to them. I had to suck it up and take it, though. He was the judge.
"I am sorry, Your Honor. I know how valuable your time is. Please forgive me," I uttered with as much sincerity as I could muster.
"Your client's in lock-up and ready to plead, correct?"
"Yes, Your Honor."
"Alright. I'm gonna take up Mr. Newton's motion to suppress first. Just have a seat. Please proceed, Mr. Newton."
Damn, knowing Newton, I will be here for hours.
It took Newton an hour to get out a coherent thought, and he would, no doubt, spend a couple of hours questioning the police officer.
I sat down and settled in for the long haul. Two hours later, Newton finished arguing his motion.
"Motion denied, Mr. Newton. All righty, then, Mr. Masen, it is time for us to recess for lunch. We'll take your case up at 1:00. Be back then and not a minute later."
Shit. "Yes, Your Honor."
I walked out into the hall and called the office. My assistant, Alice, who doubled as one of my two best friends and had managed to save my ass a zillion and one times, informed me that I had 20 phone messages and 60 new emails. "Anything that can't wait until later this afternoon?"
"No," she said. "It's all good. I gotcha covered."
I decided to run to the Courthouse Grill to grab a sandwich. As I was walking through the door, my cell rang. I was fumbled to answer it and bumped into someone. Without looking up, I grumbled a half-hearted apology when I felt warm fingers grab my arm to steady me. The warmth was followed by a current of electricity that stole my breath.
I looked up, trying to resume normal breathing, into the most angelic face framed by wisps of blond hair and the deepest blue eyes I had ever seen. Judge Jasper Whitlock.
"Mr. Masen, I'm sorry to be so clumsy. I really need to watch where I am walking." The tone of his voice sounded light and casual, but his eyes contracted ever so slightly and never left mine.
"Judge Whitlock, I . . . I . . .I was the one not watching where I was going. I'm sorry."
I had no idea how long we stood there just staring at each other, his hands still on my arm. It seemed both an eternity and a split second.
Someone from behind me cleared his throat and said excuse me, interrupting the moment.
"Right. See you," Judge Whitlock said quickly and escaped towards the elevators. I felt an overwhelming sense of loss as soon as he was gone.
I didn't remember ordering or paying for the turkey sandwich in front of me. I really needed to pull it together. I had about thirty minutes to get my shit together before I had to stand in front of that man in a professional capacity.
Jasper Fucking Whitlock. I had appeared before him in court countless times in the last five years. Granted, this was the first time that I had ever really seen him up close. But, seriously, why was this fucking with my head?
I knew from the courthouse gossip he was the youngest judge ever appointed to the bench and had been re-elected last year after running unopposed. He was single. He'd received his law degree from Harvard, graduating first in his class. He had joined his father's practice before taking the bench. Many of the women in the clerk's office were convinced he was gay, because he never accepted of any of the offers they threw his way.
I thought about it for a minute. Lack of sex. That had to be it. It had been almost six months since I had unceremoniously kicked that muscle-bound, thick-headed asshat, Jacob, to the curb, and I hadn't gotten laid since then. Had it really been that long? Shit, work has really been kicking my ass.
I really needed to get back in the game. I would try to set up a night out-soon. I felt better having discerned a plausible reason for my reaction. I just hoped he didn't notice anything unusual about my reaction to him.
I arrived in the courtroom ten minutes early. I looked over the plea agreement again and chatted with my client as we waited for Court to reconvene. At exactly 1:00, Judge Whitlock walked to the bench and called my case.
"Mr. Masen, are you ready to proceed?" he asked looking down, shuffling papers.
"Y-y-yes, Your Honor." Why am I stuttering?
"Mr. Volturi, is the State ready?"
"Yes, Your Honor," he said without looking up from his paperwork.
"Alright, Mr. Masen, I've reviewed the paperwork and will approve the plea agreement." He looked at my client. "Alright, Mr. McCarty, do you understand that you are pleading guilty to aggravated burglary? You're giving up your right to a trial by jury, your right to an appeal, and, in exchange for pleading guilty, you are going to be sentenced to three years in the penitentiary."
Mr. McCarty just sat there with a shit-eating grin on his face until I poked him in the ribs with my elbow. "Yes, sir."
"Mr. Volturi, does that accurately describe the plea agreement as you understand it?"
"Yes, Your Honor."
"So, as to Count One of the Indictment containing the charge of aggravated burglary, how do you plead, Mr. McCarty?"
"Guilty, sir."
"Now, during this process, you have been represented by Mr. Masen, seated next to you. Are you s-s-satisfied with the quality of representation he has given you?"
Did he just stutter?
I looked up and saw a pink tinge rising up his neck as he spoke.
"Yes, sir."
"I accept your plea of guilty and sentence you to three years in prison, Mr. McCarty. Good luck to you."
I turned to shake Mr. McCarty's hand and collect my things when I heard, "Mr. Masen, could I please see you in chambers?"
Did he just ask to see me in chambers? Shit. Fuck. Shit.
I couldn't form words due to the lump the size of fucking Texas in my throat, so I simply nodded.
I finished packing my briefcase before heading to the back hall where the judge's chambers were located. I walked through the door of his office to find he had already removed his robe and was seated at his desk.
"Mr. Masen, please come in. Sit down."
I complied, but still couldn't manage to find my ability to speak. He looked at me, and his eyes held me captive. Shit. Get it together.
"I wanted to apologize again for running into you earlier," he said breathily.
I nodded and opened my mouth, praying some sound would come out and that drool would not. "N-n-no problem. It was entirely my fault-really."
"Damn," he muttered under his breath. "I'm sorry again, Mr. Masen. That is not the real reason that I asked you here. I just couldn't bear the thought of you walking out the door, and I was honestly hoping that, if I saw you again, I could shake this feeling I have had since we ran into each other earlier. I can't explain the connection I felt when I touched your arm."
"Oh. . . . Oh." It took a moment for what he had just said to sink in. Then I stuttered some more, " I . . . we. . . can't . . ."
"I know," he replied calmly. "I'm sure you have a girlfriend, and even if you were interested, which I am sure you are not, it would be a serious conflict of interest. I am sorry I brought it up. Please forgive me. We never have to mention this again."
"Uh, sure." I stared back at him and then felt panic rise in my throat. "I gotta go. Uh, bye."
And with that I left and ran to the elevators.
I didn't notice him behind me as I ran straight onto an open elevator. Just before the door closed, he stepped into the car. The doors closed. Neither of us said a word. I couldn't take my eyes off of him though.
"What…" I started to ask him what the fuck he thought he was doing, but I never got that far.
The elevator car slammed to a halt sitting me on my ass.
"What the hell?" he asked the ceiling. The elevator was not moving.
The jolt from landing on my ass cleared my head. . . finally. I climbed back to my feet and found my voice again just in time to realize I was pissed.
"Great. It appears that we are now stuck together in this God-forsaken elevator. In case you failed to notice, Judge Whitlock, I was trying to get the fuck away from you. I am not . . . I didn't know you . . ." I was rambling pathetically.
I was stunned. I had no idea that Judge Whitlock was gay. If he were out of the closet, I would have heard about it. So, if he was still in the closet, why was he hitting on me? And why did I want him to keep it up? The scandal would be professional suicide for both of us.
"Let me push the call button and see what is going on with the elevator," he said ignoring my rant.
"Can I help you?" a voice asked from the box on the wall of the elevator car.
"Yes, this is Judge Whitlock. Edward Masen and I are stranded in here. The elevator just stopped. Could you please get us out of here?" He sounded so calm. I was still seething.
"Oh, dear! Judge Whitlock, I'm sorry. There is a short in the elevator's electrical system, and it has lost all power. We have a crew working on it, but I don't know how long it will take to correct the problem. The car is stable though. Don't worry. You are safe where you are."
"Thank you. . . uh, what is your name?"
"Quil, sir, Quil Atera."
"Thank you, Quil. Please let us know when you know more."
"Well, isn't this just fucking peachy," I said snidely.
"I'm sorry. I just had to follow you. I can't for the life of me explain the feelings I am having, Edward." With each word, he moved closer to me, an inch at a time.
"Stop right there, Judge Whitlock. I am having a hard enough time breathing in this tiny fucking box as it is. I do not need you getting any closer and sucking away any of my air."
He stopped and then said, "Jasper. Please call me, Jasper, since it looks like we're going to be here for a while."
I sat down exhaling loudly, leaning against the opposite wall. We sat in silence for a long while each looking at the floor.
"Am I going crazy, Edward? Do you feel it too, or am I losing my mind?" He spoke in a tone barely above a whisper.
I thought for a moment before answering, hoping that a pithy response would come to me. It didn't, so I answered him as simply and succinctly as I could.
"No, but it doesn't change anything. You're off limits. Look, Jasper, I worked too damn hard to get where I am to let something like this ruin my reputation or create problems with my license for violating the rules of professional conduct due to a conflict of interest.
"So, yes, I felt 'it' too- whatever the fuck 'it' is. Doesn't change anything, though."
Jasper took a deep breath, his eyes never leaving mine, and said, "All I know is there's an intense, electric spark, and we both feel it. I know that you depend on your work in my courtroom for your livelihood. But I gotta tell ya, I have never been hit by anything as strong as what I felt, still feel."
I couldn't tear my eyes away from his as he spoke. Cerulean blue. Captivating. The sadness that welled there as he spoke almost tore my heart in two.
"Could we change the subject?" I asked, trying to steel myself against the overwhelming urge to scoot over and comfort him.
What? Me, comfort? I was more the love-'em-and-leave-'em type.
"Sure. What do you want to talk about?"
"How about we talk about all of the members of the bar who piss us off?" I said, laughing.
He laughed too. "You start."
We sat in the elevator, going back and forth trying to decide who the biggest douche bag in the local legal community was. The conversation took a twist, though, as we began to discuss what led us to the legal profession in the first place.
"I always imagined that I would work for legal aid. I wanted to go to law school to help the poor, give them a voice in the system." From anyone else, I would have thought that this was the cheesiest thing I had ever heard, but his sincerity was obvious. It was touching. I was getting sucked into that vacuum of electricity between us again.
"Not me," I quipped. "I became a lawyer so that I could buy myself a yacht."
He laughed. It was an intoxicating sound.
"It's true. That is why I went to law school, but along the way, I became so pissed off at the injustice I saw in the 'justice' system," I said, making air quotes with my fingers, "I knew I wanted to help the most vulnerable as well. That is why I went into criminal defense."
The voice on the box interrupted. We had been stuck for a little over an hour and a half. "Judge Whitlock?"
"Yes, Quil."
"We are still working on it, but it looks like it is going to be at least another hour or so. Are you all okay for now?"
He looked questioningly at me. I nodded.
"Yes, Quil. We're fine for now. Thanks for the update."
"I miss practicing law," he said quietly.
"Why did you accept the appointment to the bench then?" I asked.
"It's complicated. Reader's Digest version is that I did it to please my father."
"And have you learned anything from that?" I asked with a chuckle.
"Yes. As much as I love my father and want his approval, I know now that I have to live life on my own terms. My father is a great man, but he has never understood my beliefs. He too became a lawyer to have the money to buy a yacht and a sports car." We both laughed.
"Does he know about . .?" I couldn't say the word to him for some reason.
"That I'm gay?" I nodded. "No, he suspects, but doesn't know. I was out during law school, but went back into the closet when I moved back here. Small town, small minds. I just didn't want to put my family through it."
Somehow during our conversation, our bodies had gravitated to one another. We were merely an inch away from touching. I looked up at him, wanting him to reach out and touch me more than I had wanted anything in my life.
"Edward…" The way he said my name sounded almost like a whispered prayer.
"Yes?"
"I think that I am going to quit my job."
"What? Are you kidding me? You can't…"
"Oh, yes, I fucking can. Damn, that feels good. I want to advocate for people. I hate wearing that fucking black robe, having to keep up the appearance of 'judicial temperament' all the freaking time. Thank you. You have helped me be able to admit that this job is just not for me." He heaved a huge sigh of relief and suddenly looked like the weight of the world had been lifted from his shoulders.
"Jasper, are you sure? I mean you won't get another shot at this. If you quit, you will likely screw yourself out of any chance you would have of being elected to the job again. Hell, you would probably screw yourself out of any shot you would have of being elected dog catcher."
"Yes. I'm sure. Besides, I wouldn't have a shot at being elected dog catcher in this town anyway after I come out." He paused and looked at me. I nodded agreeing with him.
"I feel better than I have since I put on that damn black robe six years ago. Life is too fucking short, Edward. I have hated what I was doing for a long time. I was just afraid to admit it to myself.
"Then, there's you. Frankly, I would sell my soul to the devil for a chance to kiss you right now."
"Jasper, I…"
Before I could get another word out of my mouth, his lips crashed down on mine, and his body flattened mine to the floor of the elevator car, his erection grinding into my own. I was stunned for half of a second followed by instant, burning flames scorching every fiber of my being.
Was it possible for a human to spontaneously combust?
Jasper's lips moved in perfect movements mirroring mine. His tongue flicked gently at my bottom lip seeking entrance. I opened my mouth to allow his tongue to dance with mine and wove my fingers through his hair pulling him closer to me. He moaned into my mouth, and I thought I would come right then and there.
But damn if we didn't get interrupted. The elevator started moving. We both gasped and jumped away from each other. We were too stunned to speak.
I stood up slowly not trusting my knees to hold me. What had just happened here? What had happened today?
"Edward…"
"Jasper…"
We spoke simultaneously as the door to the elevator opened. I stepped out to see a small crowd of people waiting, including Alice, who ran up to me.
"Are you alright? I was so worried when you didn't come back to the office. I called the clerk's office, and they told me you were trapped."
I must have looked dazed and flushed. "Edward, are you going into shock? Seriously, do you need a doctor?"
"No, Alice, I am fine. Let's go." As we turned to leave the building, I looked over my shoulder at Jasper. When he caught my eye, he winked. My knees almost buckled again at the sight.
Alice and I arrived back at the office. She followed me into my office and closed the door.
"Edward, was that Judge Whitlock stuck in the elevator with you? Damn, he is hot. What happened? He looked like he wanted to eat you up with a spoon."
"I don't want to talk about it, Alice. I am still processing everything that happened today."
"Pish, posh. Come on, it's quitting time. Let's go get a drink, and then you can spill."
"I think I am just gonna head home and crash."
"Okay, but don't think that you are gonna get out of this for one minute, Edward Anthony Masen."
I grabbed the file I needed for the morning and walked past her and out the door.
I arrived at my townhouse without realizing I had driven home. As I got out of the car and headed to the door, I noticed him sitting on my front steps. I gasped at the sight of him.
"I am glad that the elevator started when it did, Edward. Otherwise, I would have taken you right then and there. And, while that would have been immensely enjoyable, I want the first time that I make love to you to be in a more suitable location, preferably a bed."
I just looked down at him and nodded. Evidently, I had been rendered mute again at the sight of him.
"Can I come in?" he asked hesitantly. "I am not ready to end our conversation. I don't want today to end. "
"M . . .me either." I managed to squeak out.
He followed me in. As I closed the door behind us, I knew, without a doubt, today was just the beginning.
E/N: This is my first attempt at slash. I hope that I haven't embarrassed myself. I realize that the exchange between Judge Whitlock and Mr. McCarty does not include all of the rights waived by a defendant during a guilty plea. I shortened it on purpose to help with the flow of the story.
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