Disclaimer: I own nothing of GS/GSD. R&R please.
A/N: Hello again dear readers and reviewers! I'm really happy about the start of this fic, and I'm glad that an idea I've been toying with long before I even finished The Isle is being well-received. Yes, I know it seems strange that my school lessons would come in useful in writing fanfiction (apart from the importance of putting the disclaimer right at the top of this!) but whaddya know. I've always been fond of the topic of land-related torts and the wacky case authorities that come with it, and so it is with great enthusiasm that I'm combining some of the actual cases and the basic principles with my favourite anime couple.
Thanks to all who have read and reviewed and I hope you like this chapter too. As always, I love reading reviews and update as soon as those come in.
"Any fool can tell the truth, but it requires a man of some sense to know how to lie well."
Butler, Samuel
Chapter 2: Better to help garden gnomes than people
The rest of the week was proving to be incredibly unmemorable.
Worse still, Athrun hadn't been concentrating very hard on his tasks the whole week— his thoughts had been elsewhere. And whenever he caught himself being distracted, he was horrified to realize that he'd been thinking of ways to sue some developers who had every right to be clearing and making noise on some plot of land somewhere.
On this Thursday morning, he had scheduled the meeting for Gilbert Dullindal and Mia Campbell by means of contacting Heine Westenfluss, but the attempts at a settlement did not seem to be going anywhere.
They sat in a meeting room—a room that was not similar to Athrun's working cubicle in any way. This table was oval and had nothing much on it, save a bunch of plastic flowers in some vase. Athrun's work table on the other hand, was a bit like having a buffet spread crammed onto a hospital meal tray. His table had nothing that was not being used practically, but the vase on this table was something that Lunamaria Hawke, the secretary, had used her initiative to obtain and display.
Five minutes ago, she'd come in to serve them drinks, and Athrun had noticed Heine Westenfluss and Gilbert Dullindal's eyes jumping appreciatively to her short skirt. Admittedly, Lunamaria was quite attractive with that ostentatious hair-colour and her endless legs, and she had a distinctively preppy style that always got the visitors to the office noticing her.
Athrun would have made a mental note to tell Lunamaria to get more office-friendly attire, but Dearka had always argued that a bit of distraction for clients that they were charging by the hour was always welcome.
Now, Athrun cleared his throat, tapping slightly on the file with a pen, reminding everybody present to focus on more pressing issues than trying to land a date with the secretary. The clock of course, was in a conspicuous place to remind them all that the solicitors' fees were hourly. "So if I understand you correctly, Mr. Westenfluss, your client is suing because of personal injury?"
"Amongst other things, yes." Heine nodded. He opened his briefcase and fetched a file, presumably with Mia Campbell's instructions. "She is also seeking compensation for psychological injury, negligence and a breach of fiduciary duty where Mr. Dullindal is concerned. As far as my client's instructions are concerned, she is prepared to have Zaft & Zaku Partnership represent her in all claims." He looked up, smiling very slightly. "I understand that Elsman & Reid is also representing the Djibril Private Hospital as the defence, of course, but we are here to focus on Mr. Dullindal."
Gilbert Dullindal spoke up before Athrun could respond. His eyes were slits and his tone rather cool for someone who was being sued for quite a few things. "Mia Campbell's not going to get a single cent from me if she doesn't cooperate. Let's face it—Djibril Private Hospital has the best surgeons." He smirked, flashing white, even teeth. "All of us in the show business know its reputation for taking people who have faded into oblivion, restructuring their faces, then reviving them and their careers. She was the one who told me to make her like Lacus Clyne, except better. I only followed her instructions."
Athrun held up a hand hastily. He wished he was elsewhere now, but he did not really have a better place in mind. "Hold it, Mr. Dullindal, we're trying our best to avoid going to court right now, so I'd like you to calm down and just think of the time and effort you'd be saving if you could let us try to reach an out-of-court settlement."
Personally, he prayed that Dullindal would catch the hint that an out-of-court settlement was the best way not to lose the case— the fact was that Dullindal had an objectively weaker case than the woman suing him. Dullindal, however, seemed not to notice Athrun's pointed tone.
"I'm having second thoughts about this settlement attempt." Dullindal frowned. "If she wants to take it to court, I can go along with that." He looked at Athrun confidently. "I can afford to play that game."
He was a good-looking man, Athrun supposed, and he had gone from being a glam rock-star with a hundred endorsement-deals to being a rather successful pop-star manager. While everybody had heard of Gilbert Dullindal, Athrun had not dealt long enough with his latest client to know what he was really thinking.
"But Mr. Dullindal," Athrun tried to sway him back into agreeing to a settlement, "You could be saving a lot of your valuable time avoiding litigation, if you could agree to Ms. Campbell's settlement terms."
"Settlement terms?" Dullindal laughed once. "That woman didn't even show up today." He smirked. "Although I don't think that she could, even if she had wanted to."
Heine exchanged a glance with Athrun.
The woman suing his client, Mia Campbell, had not turned up in person, even if Gilbert Dullindal had. Athrun could not blame her for that. Instead, Heine Westenfluss, her lawyer, had provided three photographs of his client. Post-surgery, that is.
Looking at the photographs, Athrun noticed that the woman who was suing his client had a very gloomy expression. He couldn't quite tell if it was unhappiness at her botched operation that was causing her glower or the unnatural weight of the overtly-plump lips. Either way, Athrun wasn't sure if fishes were supposed to look this human.
"Do you have any photographs of what Ms. Campbell looked like, pre-operation?" Athrun asked Heine.
Heine flipped to another file and passed it to Athrun with a tiny smile threatening to emerge on his lips. "Here."
"Thanks." Athrun murmured, already deep in thought about the contrast of image before and after the operation.
"She was a plain Jane before the operation." Dullindal supplied.
It was true. But Heine articulated what Athrun had only managed to keep from saying. "In all honesty, Mr. Dullindal, she would have been better off a plain Jane than what she looks like now."
Athrun glanced at Dullindal, afraid that Dullindal would spring to his feet and start some fight. But Dullindal was a different sort of client— he only sat there and smirked back at Heine Westenfluss.
Truthfully, Athrun much preferred to deal with Mia Campbell's lawyer, Heine Westenfluss, without Dullindal or Campbell in the picture. He and Heine had been drinking buddies for a long time and Heine had been an exceptionally good student and old friend back then during those days. That hadn't changed even now—Athrun and Heine often met up outside court, opposite sides or not.
Sighing inwardly, Athrun wondered whether it would have taken all of half-an-hour to reach a compromise if he had simply bought Heine a drink in private. Of course, his wish could not be fulfilled, because they had to act on their clients' instructions at the end of the day. Looking at Heine, Athrun could sense that Campbell was apparently quite a stubborn person who wanted to sue at all costs.
The real problem had started when she had instructed the plastic surgeon to 'make me look like a million bucks- make me look like Lacus Clyne.' The series of complex operations had cost a million bucks and more. It had turned out all funny – funny in the non-humorous way.
The idea here was that Mia Campbell was very, very pissed.
Speaking to Mia Campbell over the phone in order to invite her to this settlement hadn't given Athrun much headway in his attempts to convince her to drop the claims. He could remember a voice uncannily like Lacus Clyne's, only that it was screeching, "How am I going to appear in person to sing my songs? Are you telling me that my current surgery to fix the previous one has to be incurred as my own expenses?"
"Well, Mr. Dullindal," Heine said smoothly, glancing momentarily at the information his client had given him, "While your lawyer is looking at the obvious ravages of the operation, why don't you tell us about your professional relationship with Miss Campbell?"
Dullindal leaned back in the chair—the very illustration of ease. Before Athrun could shoot him a warning look, Dullindal announced, "I made her, that's what."
"I see." Heine said softly, a gleam coming into his eye. His voice was soothing and very friendly— he was employing the million-dollar voice that Athrun had always recognized as Heine's most valuable weapon. "Including her image, Mr. Dullindal?"
Athrun tried not to slap his forehead in irritation. "Mr. Westenfluss, I would just like to remind you that this no-prejudice meeting is an effort to reach settlement. The details here aren't supposed to be used in court."
"Thank you for the reminder." Heine said courteously. He adjusted his tie a little, remarkably suited to his monochrome uniform.
"What my client meant," Athrun jutted in before Dullindal could open his mouth again, "Was that he brought her to success. Miss Campbell was long doing Lacus Clyne covers and dressing like the latter before she got signed on with Minerva records."
As a singer who specialized in doing Lacus Clyne covers, Mia Campbell had enjoyed some success, particularly on the internet. Referring to the facts that Vino had collected and proceeded to record in a chicken-scratch, Athrun made out that she was a purported Metube star. Clearly, she hadn't been contented with that— she'd managed to get herself signed with Minerva records.
"I managed her." Dullindal said carelessly, crossing his legs and revealing a hint of crocodile leather boots beneath his sharply-cut trenchcoat. "As a producer for Minerva records, I propelled her to fame. Because of me, she landed an illustrious deal that included her being paid handsomely for doing live performances and cutting a new album." He looked irreverently at his fingernails. "Amongst other endorsements and 'Lacus Clyne-inspired' fashion spreads, of course."
"Voice-wise," Heine said, "I understand she didn't need much management, correct?"
Dullindal shrugged. "She was a cheaper Lacus Clyne—that was her strongest selling point. Her songs were arranged to be demonically-catchy too."
For one, Athrun wasn't impressed by what Mia Campbell claimed as her songs. Seeing as Lacus Clyne's songs were frequently featured on the radio, Athrun was familiar enough to know that the said Mia Campbell covers of Lacus Clyne's songs were essentially just remixes. The thirteen remixed versions of what should have been a rather simple, melodious tune had not really appealed to him.
His lip curling slightly, Athrun thought of the techno, orchestra, Spanish, and robo dance accompaniment of the original Lacus Clyne hit. Mia Campbell had definitely been grasping at straws there. For another, Athrun was not convinced that she was going to look like Lacus Clyne even with forty more surgeries.
"Well then, Mr. Dullindal," Heine said carefully, "Can you assist me in understanding why she went for the operation?"
Athrun did not fail to notice the delicate wording that Heine had employed. There was nothing to accuse Dullindal of having suggested the operation in the syntax of the question, and it was precisely something that Dullindal fell for.
Athrun sighed to himself.
"Frankly, Mia Campbell can sing." Dullindal was looking rather bored. "But nobody wants to see a less than perfect copy of Lacus, let alone a woman with a distinctively unremarkable, even if natural face." He paused. "No matter what her chest size purportedly and naturally is."
Athrun tried to ignore the last comment. In fact, he was quite sure that Mia's highly risqué outfits and coy, provocative dancing were the key differences that people looked out for. Clearly, Dullindal must have gunned for the winning combination of Lacus' angelic face with Mia Campbell's less-than-angelic style.
"I see." Heine nodded. "Well, there is a dispute of the facts, for sure. She claims that you put her up to the surgery."
Dullindal sat up, ready to say something, but Athrun cut in right away. "We'll leave that for the courts if they can't come to a settlement."
"Alright then." Heine tapped his fingers on the wood. "Even if we can't agree who came up with the surgery idea first. don't you agree that you did have the responsibility to have her best interests at heart, Mr. Dullindal? As her manager?"
Dullindal looked back at Heine imperiously. "I did." He shrugged. "I maintain that she was the one who asked me to get her surgeons. I acted in her best interests and on her instructions by getting her surgeons who would make her look like Lacus Clyne. If she wants to sue someone, she should be suing those surgeons at Djibril Private Hospital who botched her operation."
Looking at his client, Athrun wondered if Dullindal was really secretly a nasty piece of work. There had been plenty of rumours about him that Athrun had dug out over the course of the last two weeks while on this case—that Gilbert Dullindal had a glib tongue, seduced perfectly respectable women with little more than a glance, and that he regularly convinced starstruck teenagers to sign a fair deal of their personal rights away in the quest for fame.
As it was, Athrun decided that Dullindal was clever and devious enough to not really require legal counsel. But as he thought of that, Dullindal's cell rang, and he answered it immediately.
Once Dullindal excused himself and went outside to take the call, Heine leaned forward, grinning at his old schoolmate. "Well, Zala, you're not doing too badly here with Dearka, aren't you?"
Athrun clucked his tongue disapprovingly and Heine laughed. "Right, you don't go by that name anymore, do you?"
"It's Reid. That's why this firm is called Elsman & Reid and not Elsman & Zala, which would—," Athrun smiled drolly, "Sound a little less respectable."
"Right," Heine paused, remembering how Athrun had always taken his mother's surname and maintained it on his cards and for every introduction. Even back in school, Athrun had avoided being associated with the more famous of surnames. "Then Mr. Reid, may I just congratulate this firm's recent success?"
"Come now," Athrun chuckled. He pointed at Heine's briefcase and beautiful silk tie. "You're the one who earns thrice the amount I do."
Heine raised an elegant eyebrow. "You know, had you followed the parental advice, you could be earning five times of what I earn right now." He looked at Athrun interestedly. "If you had followed the advice doled out to you, that is."
"Yes, yes," Athrun mused. "All I'd have to do would be to wear a tuxedo every evening and get to know people and forget them in the very same night." He waved his hands over his files lackadaisically. "There'd be no need to sit around listening to lunatics to earn a living."
"I suppose you might have gotten laid for free more often if you'd stayed in the high society," Heine supplied calmly, prompting a raised eyebrow from Athrun. "But let's face it, your pop's a slave driver and he probably wouldn't let you be a rich little boy with the bling, arm candy and the wheels so simply."
"I'd have had to slog it out anyway," Athrun informed him. There was a slightly wistful expression coming into his face. "Might as well do it while being my own person."
"True, that," Heine rested his chin in his hands. "But let's try and remember that he's not exactly supportive of Elsman & Reid either. When was it that he tried to draw up the mortgage?"
"Last year, when we met at some gala," Athrun informed him dryly, "And that was when I basically told him to get off my back. But you know, we've paid off the loans, we've established a pretty big profit margin now, and whatever's the past stays in the past." He paused slightly. "We've got better things to do than examine our heads and test whether we have father complexes."
"Do you need to test for that?" Heine questioned.
Shooting a look at Heine, Athrun chose not to reply.
And so Heine shrugged. "Anyway, the firm I work for has always been established, Athrun, and fat paychecks are a sure thing. Yours, considering that it was only started five years ago, is doing fantastically—that Le Creuset case got the firm featured in the Law Annual. Groundbreaking case, really." He crossed his arms assuredly. "And it can only get better when you have one of Heliopolis' Eligible Bachelors as a partner."
"Stuff it." Athrun told him, although his mouth was twitching into a smile.
Heine only laughed. "Between you and me, I don't think Mia Campbell will drop any charges or settle for less than the amount she wants to sue for. Gilbert Dullindal has to be prepared to fight tooth and nail with her."
Athrun sighed, massaging his temples. "I thought so. Sometimes, I don't even know why I take on clients like him."
"You know what they say." His friend said cheerfully. "Better to help garden gnomes than people. At least Dullindal's a paying client."
"Sure." Athrun muttered. "I just have to win though."
"No wonder your eagerness at doing this out of court. But don't worry too much even if it finally does go to court. It's you representing him, so I think he has a chance of winning." Heine lowered his voice. "Objectively speaking, anyway."
"I can only pray so." Athrun said pessimistically, looking through his personal files of information that he'd collected about Gilbert Dullindal. It was a habit and personal policy of Athrun's to find out what he could about his clients—particularly because those things came in useful while deciding how to communicate with them.
"So what's your guy like?" Heine inquired.
Athrun shrugged. "He's been accused of seducing attractive and impressionable young men before. He doesn't have a completely clean record, if you ask me. In fact, that's how he decided to choose our firm to defend him— he told me that Rey Za Burrel had heard of Elsman & Reid and recommended us."
"Rey Za Burrel, eh?" Heine shook his head, thinking of the classical crossover-pianist star, also signed under Gilbert Dullindal. There had also been rumours that Rey Za Burrel was involved with Gilbert Dullindal beyond a professional relationship. "I can't figure those two out."
"Best not to." Athrun grimaced, thinking of how Rey Za Burrel was a distant relative of Rau Le Creuset's and had purportedly been talent-spotted by Gilbert Dullindal. It was a very small world.
"Don't fret," Heine said lazily. "The time we've just spent is clocked in anyway. When this is over, I'll buy you a drink. In the meantime, just remember what your hourly rates are and try to relax."
Athrun ran a hand through his hair tiredly. "Scant compensation for my nerves, Westenfluss. It's been a very strange week."
"Why?" His friend inquired curiously
But before Athrun could attempt to describe the encounter with Kira Yamato and his supposed twin, Dullindal moved back into the room. His hands were clutching at his cell and they all saw that his face was mottled with anger. But he slammed a fist on the table before anyone could inquire what the matter was.
"I just found out that she gave a phone interview to the Heliopolis Tattler making some claims about me." Dullindal declared. He looked at Athrun, frowning with his face like thunder. "I want you to prepare to counter-sue Mia Campbell for defamation!"
Later on in that same week, Athrun sat at his table, filling in information into the template for general memorandums. Once again, his thought were jolted and distracted, and he bit his lips in frustration, cursing everything in front of him that he could put a name to.
Like a mini city, the tables and shelves that stretched between him and his partner drew long and blocky, forming the bedrock for the buildings of files and the concrete-grey compilations of news articles that they'd kept in clear ring folders. The light that eased through the curtains seemed to reflect something of the asphalt-like planes of stacked boxes and thick bound documents.
Dullindal's case was definitely more complicated than he'd expected, and this was reflected in the crease between Athrun's eyebrows. The path from his desk to the window spanned a good distance of texts, cupboards, yet-to-be unwrapped boxes, and a few computers. In other words, there were about two meters worth of uncleared work between him and the window, and Athrun had plenty of time for contemplation.
When he required a particular practitioner's textbook, he plodded to get it with his feet like a duck's webs in mud. With his chair in tow, Athrun inched towards it unglamorously without lifting his rear from his seat.
Unfortunately, his already jerky train of thought was entirely disrupted by Dearka Elsman.
"Vino!" Dearka's voice boomed loudly for a second, and then Athrun saw his law partner peek over a pile of files to grin at Athrun. "Well, hey now."
"Good morning." Athrun said pointedly, making an allusion to Dearka's being late for the second time that week and that Dearka comfortably chose to disregard altogether. "You know that you're due in court for the pre-trial conference in two hours, don't you?"
"Of course. Last court appearance of the week." Dearka answered matter-of-factly. "That's why I need my pick-me-up."
Dearka was a born solicitor, with a tongue so slippery it beat any road on a rainy day. With a wit that Elsman & Reid relied on for their salaries, Dearka was the sort people took notice of easily. His father had been a rather prominent businessman, and Dearka had long been known as something of a rich playboy.
Athrun's eyes lingered on Dearka's sleeves now.
Despite the standard, rather strict dress protocol of black and white, Dearka always made it a point to wear flashy cufflinks even when in court. Few people knew that his plentiful style was representative of his substance as well.
Dearka Elsman never had to work very hard, Athrun realized, to get the cases in order, although he looked like he was always grasping at straws and always running late on the schedule. He had the luck of a devil.
Athrun however, was the sort who took no chances. He controlled things with an iron fist. Every piece of evidence was kept in order, every argument was prodded and poked before he even stepped into court, and every counter-argument had to be predicted for an easy win in court. In short, every case was scrutinized before he even decided that Elsman & Reid would take it on.
Their contrasting styles made for a killer combination, as Dearka had once remarked, and Athrun was glad he'd joined Dearka on this business venture of sorts.
Currently, he watched Dearka, who was hunting high and low for Vino.
"Vino's not here." Athrun told Dearka, when he was finally tired of Dearka running around in circles. "I can't possibly hide him underneath my table."
Inwardly, Athrun wondered when Dearka had taken the duty onto himself to curb Vino's lateness. Dearka was certainly no stickler for punctuality either. Dearka had met some girl recently—some brunette, if Athrun could recall, and Dearka had been quite busy chasing skirts.
"He wasn't here when you got to the office in the morning?"
Athrun decided not to reveal how he'd spent more than his usual half-an-hour in the Cosmos café, watching the crowds as those built up. Inwardly, he knew that he had been hoping to see someone in particular, although he hadn't had any luck so far. "I don't know. I'm usually the first here anyway."
Dearka began to mutter a complaint. "Darn that Vino— he must have slept late again. For God's sake— it's a Friday and he wants to be late for work! You know what his latest excuse was?"
"I know," Athrun said drily, putting down the practitioner's text for a second. "He says his flat mate Yolan likes to snore at night, and that makes him sleep so badly that he's always not hearing his alarm clock. I told him to come up with a better excuse or to buy a heavy duty stapler for Yolan."
"Aww," Dearka muttered. "I really wanted some coffee."
"Lunamaria's free to get you some." Athrun informed him, flipping through some papers and marking a page featuring a slightly relevant case. He frowned, looking at the date it had been decided— it would not be advantageous to cite authority dating back about fifty years.
"I don't like the instant mix. I want proper coffee from down the street." Dearka continued bluntly, looking around to reach over to a nearby shelf and grab a brochure that he apparently needed for work.
"Will some from Cosmos Café do?" Athrun asked, trying not to let himself sound too eager. "I could do with a break—I could go there and get you some."
"Nah." Dearka declined, putting an end to Athrun's secret hopes. "That place's coffee is below mediocre. But there's a place that's even nearer to this street. I heard that there's this newly-opened café— Desert Tiger Bistro or something like that. Heard it's owned by this geezer who has amazing blends. Runs it with a really hot-chick for a girlfriend, I heard."
"Of course." Athrun muttered. "Hot chicks and good coffee always catch your attention."
"That's why Vino should be here to help me get the coffee." Dearka flipped through the document that he'd selected, and Athrun tried not to notice the comely bikini-clad woman winking and posing in a come-hitherto pose featured on it. "That's what we agreed on, right? We hired him because he promised to throw in photostatting and coffee services too."
"Maybe the latter for you. I don't do more than one cup of coffee a day." Athrun said stolidly, standing up a little to fetch a reference file from a shelf above his desk. This was true—Heine and Dullindal had finished theirs, but Lunamaria had eventually cleared Athrun's still-full cup.
Dearka laughed, lobbing aside the magazine. "Maybe you haven't tasted good coffee before—which is why you prefer tea. But tea is for a gramps like you, not for me, the Mr. Hot-as-Hell-Lawyer." He winked, ruffling his hair to prove his point.
"You made a mistake there." Athrun told him sardonically. He was still flipping through the text, trying to find something that would help his case. "I think the management down below would be very insulted to have you comparing their temperatures to yourself. The poles would be a far better reference."
Dearka coughed. "Well then, my dear partner, I must ask in retaliation—how's the Dullindal case coming?"
"Downright bad, if you ask me. So there's your answer and your revenge." Athrun returned to the files before him. He sighed. "I'm finding a huge problem with the fact that Dullindal was the one who told Mia Campbell that looking like Lacus Clyne was the best way to earn more fans. I'm sure Heine Westenfluss will use that in his case theory."
Dearka blanched. "Is that fact established yet?"
"No, but Dullinal as good as admitted it to me in private." Athrun said morosely. "He's a strike out on everything. He had a duty of care, not to mention a fiduciary one, and he breached both in my objective opinion. Even if we limit this to negligence, Gilbert Dullindal knew that the head surgeon had a history of being eccentric, and he knew that previous accidents had happened. But he still convinced her to do it." He sighed. "Cross-examination's going to be a circus."
"So the other side's strongest point would be that he agreed to let her do a make-over eh?" Dearka questioned. "Is that common with stars and their managers? Or was it an unusual request in the first place?"
Athrun shook his head. "I tried that argument tract already. But these makeovers happens all the time. It's called re-inventing oneself— lots of pop stars do it. Even Lacus considered doing it, but hers was a matter of changing her hair-clip."
Dearka snorted. "Good advice from her manager, that Martin Da Costa guy. Her girl-next-door thing works for her and she should just stick to it. If it sells you a million records for every single, why bother reinventing?"
"This was a case of extreme." Athrun agreed, looking down at Campbell's photographs.
"Yeah well, Dullindal got lucky and now she wants to sue him and the hospital."
"Djibril Private Hospital shouldn't be a problem," Athrun remarked. "I've already called up other medical expert witnesses and arranged for a reliable, totally objective council of plastic surgeons to appear in court as advisors to the judges."
Dearka rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "How much are you paying them to appear? And how many of them are prepared to testify for him?"
"Gilbert Dullindal's loaded," Athrun considered. "So we have the funds and that means we can get at least five." He shrugged. "I think we can stretch it out a bit—ten would make a better case, and I can get at least three to fly in from Coppernicus."
"Right." Dearka agreed. "And how are you planning to present the case?"
"Well, they've promised me that they'll back the surgeons up, but they'll pretend to have a really academic discussion in court first."
"Good." His partner turned. "Well, don't let me disturb you anymore than I have. But tell me if Vino finally comes in."
"Right." Athrun was silent for a bit, but then he asked his retreating partner a bit cautiously, "Do you have any cases on private nuisance?"
Dearka made a prompt u-turn and came back to Athrun's desk. "Say what?" And clearing a corner on Athrun's table to sit on it, his partner looked at him curiously. "Did you take on any case during the time that I was asleep last night?"
Athrun tried to smile. "Well, that is—," He trailed off, feeling slightly embarrassed. But if he had to be honest about it, he had spent a significant portion of the meeting with Gilbert Dullindal and Heine Westenfluss thinking about how he'd been— there was no other word for it—blown off. It wasn't that he was petty enough to take offence. It was stranger than that.
The truth was that Athrun actually felt like he owed Cagalli Yula something.
"Well?" Dearka prompted. He crossed his arms, staring at Athrun. "What's this about private nuisance? Our firm doesn't deal with claims like that. It's not really our speciality, even if we have dealt with property and licenses and things like that."
Sighing inwardly, Athrun looked at his shoes, feeling a bit down. At the same time, Athrun tried to convince himself that his interest in the little that Cagalli had told him was firstly, good for karma since he was trying to help, and that secondly, it would not do to stay in his best friend's twin's bad books. Kira had told Athrun that he would be visiting Heliopolis a lot more because of the current dolphin project. Now, Athrun tried telling himself that meeting with Kira and possibly his twin, would be highly awkward if he did not help Cagalli Yula.
Almost to convince himself that it was only natural to think these thoughts, Athrun adjusted his tie. But then he caught himself thinking of the way Cagalli had helped her twin with his even when she'd been so curt to Athrun. In all honesty, Athrun had mulled over it every morning in the Cosmos café, wondering whether she would somehow pass by and whether he could make her less antagonistic towards him.
Now, he shook his head, wondering why he even cared about what she thought of him. "It's just that I met an old friend of mine earlier this week—Kira Yamato." Athrun paused haplessly. "His sister too. She wanted to sue to prevent a corporation from continuing work in some space near her apartment."
"Oh, a claim under private nuisance." Dearka nodded, perking up. By now, Dearka was sounding incredibly energetic for someone who professed not to be a morning person. Glancing at his partner, Athrun knew it was the smell of money that was waking Dearka up. "Maybe Cagalli Yula heard that we are an up-and-coming firm and that we're both getting quite a reputation for being legal sharks and being absolutely hot."
"I must say though," Athrun mused, folding his arms and ignoring Dearka's last comment once again. "She is rather interesting. Nothing like Kira, really."
"What do you mean?" Dearka said curiously.
Athrun sighed. "She probably has a bad temper, isn't mild, isn't patient, and is…" He paused, thinking of her fierce expression and the glimpse of black lace. "Kinda female."
Dearka snorted. "Where the last detail was concerned, I give my thanks, Captain Obvious."
"That's not true…" Athrun mumbled under his breath. "I thought she was…."
"What's that?" Dearka asked. "Did you say something."
Athrun turned away. "Nothing."
Dearka of course, did not know that Athrun could so easily summon the sound of her cry ripping through the air when he'd tackled her. Even now, for some odd reason, Athrun had found his collar heating up a little. Berating himself inwardly and trying to tell himself that he'd first thought of her as the butch-type, Athrun tried to shuffle his files around.
Thankfully, Dearka had not noticed his partner's discomfort. He tapped his chin, looking thoughtful. "I see. Well— what's the damage she suffered? Or was it some substantial interference with her quiet enjoyment of the land?"
"Damage wise, she suffered—," Athrun paused, then said lamely,"—a migraine."
Dearka's mouth fell open. "So this woman has suffered a terrible, head-splitting, instantaneously fatal, irritation-inducing migraine. Well, you have a case, that's for sure."
"Er- it's supposedly a really bad migraine caused by the noise." The words were out of Athrun's mouth before he realised it, and then he cursed himself for trying to defend someone who he'd spoken to for barely fifteen minutes long—too long, in her own words.
"Well, this is an abominable migraine, I presume," Dearka added, sarcasm dripping from his voice. "The mother of all migraines, as one might call it. I'm sure it had the impact of the last earthquake that hit some poor villlage in Earth Alliance somewhere. And that is what drove-," He paused, "What's her name?"
"Cagalli Yula." Athrun supplied helplessly. He had turned the name over in his mind for a week now, wondering how she'd ended up with a different surname from Kira's and why her personality was so distinct from his friend's mild one.
"Right, that's what drove Cagalli Yula to make this claim, bless her soul." Dearka's smirk was consuming his entire face now. "That poor woman!" He swelled magnificently, almost throwing his arms akimbo in an attempt to embrace the suffering of multiple continents.
"When I saw her," Athrun muttered. "I had to thank God for blessing the poor little headache-sufferer. They were able to save the whole brain."
They shared a chuckle. All the same, Athrun found himself idly picking up a book and searching through the practitioner's text for cases on private nuisance.
Dearka noticed this however, and his laughter died. He took the book, closed it, and faced Athrun firmly. Puzzled, his partner asked, "Are you actually looking at cases on private nuisance?"
"Er—," Athrun faced him guiltily. "Yes."
"Why?" Dearka demanded. "Weren't we on the same page, Athrun?" He looked incredulous. "I thought we were quite sure that it was a joke?"
"Er— it's just curiosity, I suppose. I was just wondering—just for argument's sake, of course," Athrun quickly added a caveat. "I was wondering whether she could possibly get an injunction. Even if the developers of the land have the license to clear the space, that doesn't mean they can do it so noisily as to interrupt the quiet enjoyment of her land, right? Remember the days in our tort class, Dearka?"
Dearka shuddered. "No, thank you. I'd rather be Mia Campbell at this point."
But Athrun continued still. "I'm just trying to make you remember what the old fogey of a professor used to say about statutory immunity from private nuisance. There's that idea that you can only change the character of the neighbourhood but you can't be a private nuisance. Remember the pig farm case he brought up? The one where the landowner wanted to stop the neighbours from using the land for rearing pigs because of the stink it raised?"
"Yeah, I know." Dearka said flippantly. "He looked very at home talking about smelly, irritating porkers. I know what you're trying to say—just because you have a license to do something on your land doesn't mean you can do it to the effect that you become a private nuisance."
He shook his head. "But Athrun, that case was heavily qualified—the license was granted by planning permission. But in Miss Migraine's case, she's actually fighting a statutory provision that gives the Heliopolis main town council permission for anyone to build anything at any cost if the council approves!"
Undeterred by Dearka's crushing treatment of the case authority and the misplacement of the text he'd been looking at, Athrun located it beneath some papers and then flipped through it again, looking at some materials that he suspected were quite outdated. Disappointed, he looked back at Dearka. "This doesn't help me. Nothing seems to suggest one can get out of the basic proofs the plaintiff needs to sue for private nuisance. She doesn't seem to have anything I could use to present her claim."
"Like I was saying," Dearka said pointedly, almost banging his cup down on Athrun's abused, overloaded table. "The pig farm case and a whole host of others should have taught you a thing or two about what quiet enjoyment of land is—especially when there's not even unlawful damage to one's own land. If you were to take on this case, Athrun, you'd be having to fight a statutory provision under quite a few Heliopolis land authority acts! As far as the Heliopolis town council's statutory powers and the trite law is concerned, you can't run to the courts and make your neighbours stop their construction if they have the Heliopolis town council's license for it!"
"That's an oversimplification." Athrun said stubbornly. "I could possibly argue that the developers can enjoy immunity only where it is confined to harm which was the inevitable result of what was authorised."
"Don't be silly, Athrun." Dearka shot back. "Obviously, noise and a bit of disturbance from clearing and constructing is an inevitable result of the Heliopolis council giving the developers a green light!"
"Maybe it isn't just the kind of noise you'd expect with normal construction." Athrun pointed out. "Maybe this surpasses what is even authorised by the Heliopolis council."
"Oh yeah? Just remember that the extra-sensitive plaintiff can't claim when the reasonable man doesn't." Dearka smirked. "The princess who's suffering this migraine can't claim for compensation of her medical expenses, let alone ask the court's for an injunction if nobody is going through this purported headache!"
Athrun tried again. "Maybe if we try the tactic that—,"
"Look," Dearka shot. "This case isn't going anywhere because it's a dud. It's a dud, you hear me? Clearing space can't possibly be interference of one's quiet enjoyment of the land—she can't sue with a private nuisance cause of action with something like that! This is a dud!"
"Well, that's what you said about Rau Le Creuset when he sailed in and wanted to know if he had a legal claim against George Alster and his management committee for throwing him out of the mall." Athrun muttered. He pointed to a file that Dearka smiled reminiscently at for a few seconds too. "That was such a weird case that you just said no way and flat out too. But look what we did with it!"
"Well I do admit that the supposed dud earned us a nice receipt in the bank, the nice little bit of prestige, and the nice mention in the Annual Law Review." Dearka said proudly. He bent over Athrun's shoulder, fingering the spine of the file almost lovingly. Looking at Dearka's tender expression, Athrun could only hope he had such affection for his girlfriend. "We created legal history with that case, mate."
"Which proves my point." Athrun said, rifling around, and then standing up to get more material now. Dearka began tagging along while Athrun fetched a text and returned to his desk. "Just because you say it's a dud doesn't mean it's one."
And Athrun plopped back into his seat, throwing the file to the side and sighing. "But she did make me feel like I was on my first case or something. She looked at me like I was a slug when I suggested an injunction, like it was the most obvious, inane thing to say."
Despite what he was saying, his hands were busying themselves with flagging pages relevant to suing under private nuisance.
"Look, is she coming back here?" Dearka asked again and rather loudly too. It was clearly a bid to convince Athrun to leave the file that he was creating alone. "I'd like to meet her for myself and give her a piece of my mind, twin of my partner's friend or not." He eyed Athrun, who was still flipping pages. "Please don't tell me that you're actually accepting her request to take her case on."
Athrun paused, wondering whether to inform Dearka that Cagalli had definitely not wanted to come near him with a foot-long pole. He considered this, Dearka's clear disapproval, the remnants of his own ego, and finally decided to give a non-committal grunt.
"Are you actually going to do this because she's childhood-chum's twin?" Dearka demanded.
"Maybe." Athrun said vaguely. "She's nothing like Kira Yamato though."
He got up, unconsciously beginning to pace because of his hidden agitation. "She reminds me of a paranoid old man who takes it upon himself to learn how to mend broken bones because he hates all doctors who he believes will kill him when he's not careful. It's like she read up on the law to avoid having to go anywhere near a solicitor." Athrun looked directly at Dearka. "She could even tell me what private nuisance was defined as."
Still sitting on the desk, Dearka gave a low, long whistle. "Try asking her what she understands by the word 'crime'. She may actually know the legal definition instead of citing you instances when she went out for dinner with her boyfriend and he forgot his wallet."
"I don't think she has one." Athrun stopped pacing and said with a clear touch of acridity he would have normally reserved from his bland, always neutral tone. "She would chew up any male and spit his remnants out."
Dearka shrugged, grinning. "Is she coming back here? I'd like to get a look at her."
"I'm not sure," Athrun muttered. He began to pace again. "It all depends whether her mothership has arrived yet."
Dearka chuckled. "And where exactly is this place that she wants left alone?"
"I know that she lives on Elythia-Terrain Street." Athrun informed Dearka. He decided to keep the fact that he had driven past it thrice this week from his partner. Instead, he moved back to his desk and sat down. "So probably, the place that's undergoing the clearing process is that forest near the place." He blew his breath out heavily. "You know— the one where there's a sports-car showroom in the plans."
A familiar look came over Dearka's face, and then he smirked, grabbing a chair and proceeding to straddle it. "I suppose you didn't tell her the back story of the building that's coming up on that space."
Still clearing the paper piles, Athrun only frowned. "I don't mix anything with my professional duties, Dearka. You know that." His words rang with conviction in the air, and Athrun congratulated himself on managing to say what he just had.
"Whatever it is," Dearka drawled, "You already know you're not handling anything for Cagalli Yula, so stop getting interested about this case. I know it tickles your massive intellect, but we've got better things to do and better cows to milk."
Athrun kept silent, although Dearka was right.
As if sensing Athrun's unexpressed thoughts, Dearka looked firmly at him. "We're too busy. Our cases are already tough and high-profile enough." He laughed to himself. "A rockstar-cum-popstar-manager's joining our clientele now!"
Athrun surprised himself by trying to argue otherwise. "But this case could really make us stand out from the other firms!" He was rambling now. "This case would feature such a high-profile company, and we've never taken a claim like this before, so it would really help our experience and reputation as—,"
And Dearka shook his head, cutting Athrun off. "No, partner. We're not going to take a dud case that is sure as hell going to lose anyway. This isn't the Erin Brokovich set, and I don't want you offending anyone, dislike them as you might."
"This isn't a personal vendetta!" Athrun protested. "This has nothing to do with anything or anyone—," He shook his head vehemently.
"Yes, yes," Dearka interrupted again, regretting mentioning something that struck on Athrun's nervy spot. "Just listen to me. I don't want you sticking your neck out by running to court and asking the developers to take the multi-million blueprint elsewhere. Makes sense, partner?"
Athrun remained silent.
Clearly, it was good enough, for Dearka ran a hand through his hair, smiling devastatingly. "Ms. Yula will just have to hire some two-bit lawyer who's stupid enough to take a losing case—some lawyer who presumably didn't make it to the Heliopolis Eligible Bachelors' list." He turned away. "Well, I better get back to work. See you in a bit."
Athrun turned back to his files, feeling down very suddenly. Was it the reminder of the blasted Heliopolis Tattler article? Or was it his ego smarting? Or something else? He didn't know.
Blankly, he flipped through the text that Dearka had lobed aside, thinking that Dearka was absolutely right about the whole issue.
But about twenty-minutes later, Athrun realised that he had compiled a substantial file that had little or nothing to do with his cases at hand. In disgust, he realised that he'd even tagged pages and did some summaries of cases relevant to private nuisance.
He thought of the way that he'd lain in wait at the Cosmos café even after five people had entered and began ordering breakfast—something he'd never done before. He considered the way he'd trained his eyes on the crowds outside the window instead of being absorbed by his files—that had never happened before. Had these all been conscious decisions and actions?
Athrun didn't even know.
What he did know was that his daily routines were being disrupted, and that he had to find some way of making that stop.
Glancing at the newly-assembled file he'd lobbed aside, Athrun now knew that it was inevitable that he would be calling Kira soon. It would be just to catch up, Athrun tried to assure himself. It was only for the sake of keeping in contact with his friend that he would be calling up at all.
He looked at his cell, wondering whether to call now or not. And then he berated himself almost immediately. Athrun had always applied very strict standards of work quality and efficiency to everything in life. In the meantime, his desk was still not cleared, and his mind was not supposed to be split between anything at all. He'd already erred by bothering about private nuisance claims at all, not to mention the mornings he'd spent watching crowds.
He could feel the frustration well up in him.
"No more of this nonsense," He promised himself. He turned back to Dullindal's files and stared glumly at Mia Campbell's post-operation pictures in a bid to shock himself back to work.
Still, as he worked for the rest of the day, he caught himself wondering about various other things. While meeting other clients, he still found reasons to drive past the café that he'd waited in during the mornings, and he still thought about their chance encounter.
Later, while speaking to Dullindal about their best options at present, he thought about how Cagalli Yula had been so antagonistic, despite his efforts to make up for his mistake.
And finally, when he got back to the office, he found himself using his breaks to scour more texts.
Even now, he was spending more time and effort getting materials that would strengthen her rather weak claim. The worst thing was that she probably hadn't even fumed about him as much as he'd been upset by their encounter.
To top things off, as he had been prepared to pack his things and head back home for the weekend, Vino popped in to inform him that a check for his services had been just sent in. Quite a few years younger than everyone here in this office, Vino had not lost the puppy-dog nature of his expressions and the excitability of his ways.
"I'm going to the bank now," Vino chirped. "Just to let you know, the check was sent in today."
"Is it from Dullindal?" Athrun inquired blearily. Dullindal had promised to pay Elsman & Reid handsomely for their time to the extent of going above their usual rates. Of course, the expectations that came with this was rather stressful.
Vino shook his head. "Yes, but not all of the checks are from him." He opened an envelope and peered. "There's one from a Miss Cagalli Yula."
Suddenly, Athrun was sitting very straight in his chair. "What?"
As if his whole day—scratch that- week hadn't gone by with him remembering the dratted exchange! Why did she have to remind him of it?
Meanwhile, Vino took something out and looked at the check. "Er— it says 'Forty-three dollars only." He raised his eyes to Athrun's, looking a bit puzzled. "Is there a mistake?"
"No," Athrun said gloomily. "The consultation was a very short one."
"Oh." Vino looked at his watch. "Well, I better go. The bank's going to close soon."
"Right." Athrun managed. He swivelled his chair back, glaring at his computer screen. Unaware of his employer's grim mood, Vino skipped out of the office, presumably headed to the bank that was just a few streets down.
And Athrun's gaze fell onto his cell. He picked it up, staring at it and thinking about the ridiculousness of it all. Quite besides himself and rather against his better judgment, he dialled for Kira.
Maybe, Athrun thought grimly as he held the phone up to ear, Heine Westenfluss had been absolutely correct.
The dolphin that Kira was patting was squeaking happily and splashing water everywhere. Its mate and the other subject was in another tank, but clearly this dolphin didn't mind when it was being fed fish after fish by the researchers.
The conversations between the researchers were going on in the background, and those peppered the space and echoed even into the corridors.
"So I was saying that it's possible for them to communicate even when they may not have an inkling of where they are—," One was saying.
"But I think it's more likely that they do know where they are," Another tried arguing. "It can't be telepathy—,"
"I'm not saying it's telepathy," The first one clarified. "It's just that the numbers of the eight chart show the substantial difference between—,"
Their voices trailed off as they moved along the corridors, presumably returning to the changing rooms.
The National Heliopolis University's biodiversity research department had brought in quite a few Plant-based biologists on a joint venture recently. Kira Yamato was just one of them, and behind him was Mwu La Fllaga, who specialized in birds and particularly hawks.
At that moment, Mwu was engaged in animated conversation with some other researchers and their assistants. Tanned, athletic, well-built and golden-haired, Mwu's first career had been on the racetracks in his early youth. Since then, he'd still managed to inspire dozens of admirers in the faculty and even in the hours when he lectured because of his good-looks and irrepressible humour. It didn't even matter that there was a long scar that ran across Mwu's face- probably the result of some racing accident in the past. In fact, it gave him a rakish appeal. Kira personally pitied the many admirers since Mwu was happily married to a top engineer from the Plants that Kira had experienced the pleasure of working with as well.
Kira chuckled as he let the dolphin polish off the rest of the bucket. The rest of the team was packing up and getting ready to close for the day, but Kira was still squatting here by the enclosure because he was keen to get to know Alpha and Beta the dolphins better.
"You know," Kira said absent-mindedly to the dolphin, "I didn't expect you to be so active even in the evening. Don't you feel tired swimming all day long?" He got up even as the dolphin clicked and whirred away, feeling his cell vibrate in his lab-coat's pocket and fishing it out with a bit of difficulty.
"Hello, Athrun." Kira greeted cheerfully. He moved away from the enclosure despite Alpha's insistent cries for company and more likely, for more fish. "You called right on time—I have to tell you about the tickets— wait what?" He dried his hands on a towel that his assistant had hung up in a corner. "What's that you said? Help with her case?"
"Your sister hates solicitors' guts, Kira, but—," Athrun was stammering a little, which Kira failed to really notice. "But our firm could benefit from taking on her case. I'd like to speak to her again about her case."
"Well, I did hear that Elsman & Reid has built a reputation for taking on nearly-impossible cases." He laughed openly, adding to the sounds from the dolphins some meters away. "Truth is, when I called her up a few days ago, she made it quite clear that she didn't need anyone's help."
"She does have a chance!" Athrun insisted. "If I could just speak to her and find out more—," He trailed off, not wanting to sound too eager.
Not noticing Athrun's inner conflict or the incredibly uncomfortable fact that Athrun was fighting to come to terms with, Kira sighed a bit. "Thanks, Athrun. I don't think she wants to talk about it though, although I wish I could help her as well." He shrugged as he heard his friend's splutter. "If Cagalli wants to pay, nothing I tell her will stop her from issuing a check. I did tell her that you'd agreed to meet and hear her out of goodwill and on the basis of our friendship but she's always proper like that."
Over the phone, Athrun started protesting. "She issued me a check for the fifteen minutes! I don't need that! I didn't do anything that deserves a single cent!"
"Oh don't worry," Kira reassured him, shrugging out of his labcoat while balancing his cell between his cheek and shoulder. "She did take your time, and she's always been conscious of how time can be very valuable. She's just strong-willed, that's all." He cut through to Athrun's protests. "And by the way, I need to ask you about some tickets to Lacus' event. She asked me to invite you along yesterday, if you hadn't called, I might have completely forgot about it. Are you free tomorrow?"
"No, I'm really busy and Saturday's not a good time—," Athrun began hemming and hawing and making his usual excuses but Kira laughed.
Behind him, the dolphins were clicking away to each other. By the time the researchers got back after the weekened, Kira was sure that they'd have a mile-long's worth of graphical data.
"Come on, it won't be awkward even if her ex-fiancé and I turn up at the same event." He started peeling his yellow rubber gloves off, although the fishy smell still clung to his fingers. "Don't tell me that you're not free on a Saturday evening, Athrun. It'll be a nice outing by the quay— we haven't boated before, and I'm sure the weather will be nice. Even Cagalli's going."
"What?"
And Kira's brows shot up as he heard his friend's tone change quite audibly.
Quite mistaking his friend's question as one of solely trepidation, Kira chuckled. "Oh don't worry, she may come off as a bit hardheaded, but she usually ignores the people that she doesn't like. She won't bother you."
"No, that's not it." Athrun was speaking very fast now. "I need to ask her about the case— Elsman & Reid can help!"
While Kira couldn't quite place his finger on it, he was rather touched that Athrun treasured their friendship so much as to offer to speak to Cagalli. Surely, Kira thought fondly, Athrun's firm was not struggling when they purportedly had plenty of clients these days.
"We'll see each other tomorrow then." Kira concluded. "If you're going."
"I will be."
Admittedly, Kira did not think much of the determined note that had entered Athrun's voice. He had been too busy trying to remove his wellingtons with one hand. But at Athrun's agreement, he perked up.
"Oh, so it's settled then?" Kira said happily, folding his labcoat single-handedly. "Then I'll see you tomorrow evening for the boating event. It's open-aired, and it'll be fun." A smile spread on his face as he watched Mwu approaching with something that was definitely a cookie jar. "Lacus will be so pleased to see us all there."
"Right." Athrun's voice held some hesitation in it.
"Cagalli too, I'm sure." Kira added offhandedly, not really meaning anything by it and therefore making a rather careless comment. Thus, he was surprised to hear skepticism and a heavy splash of doubt in Athrun's tone.
"You think?"
"Well." Kira paused, thinking about it for a moment. "I guess maybe not."
There was a tiny, almost indiscernible but distinctively grim release of air at the other end of the line. "That's what I thought."